Coming Home
by DaisyDay
Summary: Situated in LA now, Connie comes back for a visit to New York City only to discover that for her and Mike, it's as if she had never left...
1. Chapter 1

(Disclaimer: These characters are part of the Law and Order universe.)

Law and Order

COMING HOME

Chapter 1

The low rumble of the engine could be heard as the airplane, which had departed from Los Angeles, continued on its route towards New York City.

Connie Rubirosa had used her frequent flyer miles to get an upgrade to first class on her airline seat. She was flying back to The Big Apple in style.

She looked out the window and noted the sweeping stretches of feathery white clouds in the blue sky. The anticipation for her arrival in the-city-that-never-sleeps was making her feel excited yet anxious at the same time.

A year ago she had left her job as an ADA in New York City for a lateral career move to Los Angeles. It was not the career path she would have chosen for herself. Her ailing mother needed her in California, and family was, well, family.

For Connie, Los Angeles meant sandy beaches, sunny weather, and a relaxed suburban life. In addition to being close to her family, she had a challenging, new job as L.A. Deputy District Attorney.

Yet it wasn't enough.

Something was missing. She felt it with every fiber of her being. Perhaps she just needed to see the changing colors of the seasons, or she missed the bustle of New York traffic, she mused. All she knew is that her emotions became a jumbled mess the closer she got to New York City.

She was here because a week ago she had been rummaging through her mail at work when she came across an envelope with the return address of DA's office, NYC. Connie recognized the neat, legible writing. It was from Brenda, Jack McCoy's secretary. Hurriedly she ripped opened the envelope, anxious to hear any news from the New York DA's office.

The news was bittersweet, announcing the retirement of District Attorney Jack McCoy.

Jack… her mentor, her friend. In the personal invitation, Brenda had requested Connie's presence at a small intimate gathering she would hold in Jack's honor at the DA's office in New York on so-and-so date.

Connie's heart had leaped at the thought of being back in New York, even for just a visit. As she continued reading, she felt touched by the small personal handwritten note from Jack at the bottom:

_I hope you'll come, although I know that the distance may be a hindrance. Though you are far away, Connie, you are never far from our hearts. Love Jack_

She had made her decision right then and there; she would fly out to New York City for a few days. She wanted to be there to honor him and his illustrious career for the last time.

"Would you care for a beverage?" the flight attendant interrupted her thoughts.

Connie wasn't much of a drinker, but she asked for a scotch and soda. The scotch was in deference for Jack.

She smiled fondly at her memories of working with him on many cases. They did not always agree, but the respect they held for each other never waivered.

She tried to convince herself that the retirement party was the reason for her excitement. However, that did not explain why her throat had suddenly felt dry or why she had butterflies in her stomach the closer their approached LaGuardia Airport.

She took a sip of her drink to calm her nerves. If she was being totally honest with herself, the reason she felt a certain anxiousness was the prospect of once again seeing someone that she had never stopped thinking about since she had left New York for LA.

Michael Cutter.

Connie sat back and shut her eyes, trying to block the image. But it was useless. She could picture him, now in his office, his baseball bat leaning against his left shoulder as he wrote case notes on his small whiteout board posted on the connecting door of his office. He was brilliant, hardworking, and complex; qualities she admired in a man.

On top of that, with his arresting blue eyes, he was gorgeous. She recalled how entranced she had been at the blueness of his eyes, how it reflected his steel determination. Just the thought of seeing him again brought a shortness in her breath. Stop that, she told herself.

She had not realized she had been napping until the huge roar of the plane's engines jerked her awake. Then realization hit her that Mike had been the last thing on her mind before she slept and the first thing on her mind when she had awakened.

The plane had landed. It seemed to take forever for it to taxi to the gate. Or perhaps she was just impatient. People were getting ready to exit the plane. Connie reached up in the overhead bin and grabbed her bag. As much as she wanted to deny it, one thought entered her mind.

She was home again.

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_ When Connie appeared in L and O: LA, I was ecstatic, and I had started a story. But life got in the way and I back-shelved it. Then Mike Cutter appeared in L and O: SVU this week and and the fangirl in me became inspired again!_

_**I am so happy to be back**! I will work on keeping this story short, so it will be a fast read for you. If I get good responses, I promise to update regularly. I've missed writing Mike and Connie stories!_

_ Please leave a review so I know this story is worth telling, **for I so much want to tell it!**_

**_Please review._**


	2. Chapter 2

Gone

Chapter 2

Newly promoted Bureau Chief Michael Cutter gazed out the window which overlooked the entire city. He liked viewing the New York City skyline, filled with famous photographed landmarks, from the Empire State Building to the Brooklyn Bridge.

For him, his workplace had always the closest place he had to a home.

As he turned away from the window to scan his desk, he shook his head. Stacks of files were piled high on his desk. When he had accepted this new position, he knew it would include a lot of administrative work, but that was not the only adjustment he had to make.

He was no longer the "maverick", the one pushing the boundaries. His job was now to reinforce those set boundaries, although secretly to himself, he was going to redefine them instead.

Now seated at his desk, Mike picked up a mailed invitation, placed on the desk by his secretary. The invitation inside requested his presence at a small retirement party in honor of Jack McCoy.

He thought about his time working with Jack and, by extension, with Connie. The three of them were like the Justice Triad. Not that they won every case they prosecuted, not by a long shot. But they worked well together, checking and balancing one another's legal strengths and flaws.

That period in his life, he realized, was the best time of his life.

And now Jack was retiring. Law and order would never be the same without him. Mike had always looked up to Jack as a father-figure. Where there was Jack, there followed fireworks and justice, not necessarily in that order. Jack was one-of-a-kind.

Although Mike did not like social gatherings, he would go to this get-together for Jack. Perhaps he will ask Carly to attend as his date.

Oh, they weren't serious by any means, but, for now, she filled a void in his life. A void, he hated to admit, that was created when Connie left for Los Angeles.

That last day had been awkward and difficult.

_The DA's office was dark and quiet. Night had fallen, the only light came from the artificial ones up above. They were alone, together, finishing some paperwork on their final case together._

_They had been working nonstop at Connie's desk. The work had been completed and as they stood up, she noticed a button missing from her coat. She looked around, quite aware that she was wasting precious time looking for a button in the last ticking minutes before she was to leave Mike. He also searched her desk area with the same results. The button was gone._

_"Never mind, it's not important," Connie dismissed it after giving one last look around, "I don't want a lost button to be the cause of my being late to the airport!"_

_Realization hit him then; this was it. Their gazes locked, hers regretful, his sorrowful. _

_"Connie..." Mike was trying to keep the tone businesslike, but he slightly lost it at the end, "It's been great working beside you everyday, and...and I will truly miss you."_

_His last words sounded somewhat forlorn. And he did feel that way, for she was leaving him behind._

_ Her soft eyes watched his intense ones, not sure how to gauge his words. She couldn't read his thoughts, but hers was a feeling of ...heartache. Her coffee-colored eyes slightly glistened as her heart thumped anxiously._

_Connie wished she could tell him how much she wanted to stay because of him. Mike wished he could embrace her in his arms and never let her go._

_But she did not find the words and he did not reach out._

_So instead, she blinked back the tears and he hid his feelings behind a slight smile._

__"Mike, I'm...I'm really not very good at saying good-byes."__

_"Then, Connie, there will be no good-bye for us," he announced, "... we'll just say..**.**good-night**.**.."_

_There was a catch in her breathing when Mike came a step closer to her. A blush rose high to her cheeks. __Her lips slightly parted. Perhaps a kiss was forthcoming._

_Mike wanted to kiss her, God, he wanted to! But he had been her boss and therefore, needed to treat her as another colleague leaving a position. Awkwardly, he stepped back. They had never crossed that professional line before and they never would. He looked away to quell those inner yearnings. _

_When he looked at her again, she was smiling, although her lips were trembling. It's alright, her eyes seemed to say, and for a second, he thought she could see into his soul._

_"Good-night, Mike," She felt empty inside, as she turned and walked out of his life._

Back to the present, Michael opened the drawer to his desk. In the front compartment, alongside the pens and pencils, was a solitary tortoise-shell button. It was that same button that Connie had lost from her coat on her last day here.

Evidently the missing button had rolled under her desk and the cleaning crew had offhandedly placed it on her desktop. He had found it on her emptied desk the next morning and with an ache, knew it was too late to give it back to her. She was gone.

It was all he had of her.

Mike leaned back in his office chair, as it slightly bobbled. He liked turning the button this way and that, the button feeling warm in his fingers.

A grin tugged at his mouth at all his memories of her. From the minute he had set eyes on Connie, he found her irresistible. His musings ended with her courage on the witness stand against her former boss Marcus Woll. Under oath and in front of a gallery of strangers, she had admitted to an embarrassed past, and she did it with brilliant panache.

But it was her everyday rituals that he had missed the most. The familiar clicking of her heels down the office hallway, the sardonic lifting of an eyebrow at an unbelievable statement, or the feminine folding of her arms as she leaned against a desk or wall to talk with him.

Not a day had gone by that he did not think of her.

But for now, he had things to do. He flipped the coat button high in the air and grabbed it mid-air before shoving it back in his desk. Then he picked up the phone to first call Carly and then to RSVP for the retirement party.

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Secretary Brenda had just finished hanging up the phone. She brought out her party list and put a check next to Mike Cutter's name with a notation, _with guest_.

Her mouth curved into a smile. Her matchmaking skills were still intact.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she had sent an invitation to Connie. For three years she had seen how Mike and Connie interacted with one another when they worked for Jack. It was easy to see the smoldering chemistry beneath the professional demeanors in both.

Maybe she was a meddling old bitty, but she liked to look at herself as just a hopeless romantic. Either way, she liked that she had a little part in bringing Connie back home.

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_(Thank you all for the kind reviews! You've made me so happy to be back!)_

**_Please review._**


	3. Chapter 3

A Meeting

Chapter 3

Autumn in New York was spectacular.

The foliage in New York State–with its leaves of every possible shade of red, yellow, gold and orange–lined the busy traffic streets. The air turned cooler, signaling the end of warm summer days. Jacket-wearing commuters were unaware of the patchwork fall colors as they hurried about their workday jobs.

Central Park was a runner's paradise, especially in the fall.

Wearing her red warm up suit, Connie admired the varied colored leaves on the maple and elm trees that were scattered throughout Central Park, as she past them on her run. She inhaled, taking in the crisp New York air. The path she chose to jog was slightly elevated, offering a breathtaking view of the quiet city during the early morning hours.

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At the same time, autumn's loveliness at daybreak was also the reason Carly convinced Mike to take a different route to work. Usually they would take the subway, exiting at the station closest to One Hogan Place. Her suggestion this morning was that they cut across Central Park. It would take them longer to get to work, but the lovely park setting would help to invigorate their spirits for the long workday ahead.

The route Mike and Carly walked through passed Strawberry fields and the famous Dakota Apartment. There were several joggers out, of different genders and age groups. Many runners greeted the seemingly happy lawyers before passing them by.

"See, isn't this better than riding that old subway?" asked Carly, sweeping her hands at the glorious day.

"I have to admit that once again, you are the smarter one of us," jested Mike.

"Spoken like a true lawyer!" Carly responded, merrily.

She turned to look at him, still unable to believe at times that they were together. Well, not really _together. _According to Mike, what they had was something casual. But Carly just figured he needed more time. He had always been emotionally unapproachable. But she would not give up. All she had to do was to continue loving him and one day he would love her back.

Carly was sure of it.

It was a bright, beautiful morning in Central Park and Carly was in a good mood as she reached over and held on to Mike's arm. He did not pull away, but he did nothing to encourage it.

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Connie was coming around the bend of the track. As she jogged, she concentrated on slowing down her breathing in order to improve her endurance. A lone bush obscured what was ahead of her. Once she past that bush, she had a sweeping view of the many people walking or jogging in front of her.

Her eyes opened wide when she spotted a familiar male figure off in the distance.

_Mike._

And he was not alone.

Connie felt a stab of anxiousness when she spotted him. Despite being a distance away, she would be able to identify Mike anywhere. She had certainly observed him enough.

He had not looked in her direction yet, but it was only a matter of time.

She wanted to hurry away but, unfortunately, she had become rooted to the spot, her running shoes as heavy as lead. Her mouth formed a small "o" as she also recognized Carly, the ex-law clerk of Judge Reynolds, beside him.

From Connie's quick observation, she could see them conversing, with Carly holding onto Mike's arm. He had been smiling at Carly's last comment when he happened to look up in Connie's direction.

Carly shot Mike a look as he halted mid-step.

_It can't be..._

If this was a dream, Mike internalized, he didn't want to wake up.

His mind had stopped working, his body had stopped functioning at the sight of the faraway figure in the red tracksuit. Instantly his face turned to one of hopeful elation as his heartbeat raced.

"Mike?" Carly questioned. She followed Mike's eyes to see what had captivated him so thoroughly.

In the meantime, Connie experienced a feeling of unreality. He had spotted her and her heart dropped to her knees, her cheeks suffused with embarrassment. She willed her mind and body to start functioning again.

_Run, _she thought, _ just_ _run_.

Still in a state of shock, Connie turned and fled the other way down the jogging path, cutting across some random lawn, away from the comforting surroundings of other joggers, and deeper towards a darkened area of the park.

Her breath was coming in rapid bursts as she ran as fast as she could, tears starting to surface. She rushed through the entrance of a solitary sculptured garden.

Her adrenaline allowed her to keep running at full speed. At last, she felt it was safe to stop. She leaned against a stoned statue as she gasped for air.

Oh god, Mike had someone special in his life.

And then she berated herself. Why _wouldn't_ he? All the time she had known him, the two of them had merely been work colleagues. He had made it clear that was all he wanted from her.

It was just... _sometimes._.. the way he looked at her...

And then, there was that good-bye...

She was fraught with humiliation that both Mike and Carly had seen her. Seen her looking sweaty, messy and alone. Connie just wanted to keep running forever.

.

"Mike! What is it?" Carly still held on to his arm, watching him. She had seen the look on his face, felt the tenseness in his arm.

For a flash of a moment, it appeared as though he was going to bolt after Connie.

Jealousy stung Carly's face.

She had recognized Connie immediately, for Carly had perfect vision. She remembered Connie Rubirosa when Connie and Mike had represented the prosecution side in Judge Reynold's court. That was the case that had reunited Carly with Mike. All the old feelings she had for him came back when Carly saw him again, even when he eventually had been the one to get her fired.

She just chalked the bad experience to business was business. She had learned to keep her personal life separate from her job. And now, Carly could see another problem in her personal life.

From the first sight of her, Carly worried obsessively over Mike's attractive co-worker. Carly wondered if anything had occurred between them, despite Mike's objections. He and Connie were merely co-workers, he insisted, and Carly wanted to believe him.

Until today, when she saw his reaction.

He continued staring at the empty spot where Connie had previously stood, as if he was willing her to re-appear.

"Mike!" Carly appealed to him again, "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

He had a puzzled look on his face, "I-I just thought I saw Connie," he looked down as if he was talking more to himself, "but she's in Los Angeles."

Carly showed a look of vexation on her face. All this time, she had been thoroughly devoted to him, showering him with all kinds of attention. Yet, he always seemed emotionally removed from her, not completely there.

Yet at the mere _glimpse_ of Connie, he seemed totally focused, emotionally invested. What was this _hold_ Connie had on him after all this time?

"You thought that jogger was Connie? "Carly lied, "I'm sure it wasn't! There's a similarity, yes, but that wasn't her!"

Mike didn't seem to be listening to her as he looked down and half-talked to himself. "She would have called..."

Carly tried not to sound exasperated as she chose to ignore his comment, "Mike, we better head out. Otherwise, we'll be late for work."

At the sound of "work", Mike seemed to snap out of it and they proceeded down the pathway.

But Carly's promising morning had already ruined.

As they walked in silence, Mike turned and looked again at the exact spot where Connie had previously stood. Then he was quiet, immersed in his own thoughts. It was obvious that though Mike was physically with Carly, he was mentally with someone else.

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**_Please review._**


	4. Chapter 4

An office visit

Chapter 4

Mike Cutter sat at his desk, trying to get some work done. It was hard to stay focused being that just this morning he thought he had caught a glimpse of Connie back in New York.

He tried to re-create the image in his mind, but it was so blurred. If only he had worn his glasses that day!

He had never seen Connie jog, never seen her in anything but work clothes, but the movement and style was so reminiscent of her and he just _sensed_ it was her. But then again, maybe it was just his heart wishing it.

Stop thinking of her. Of her smile, her warmth, her intelligence.

Mike tried to clear his head as he concentrated on the file in front of him.

This case had stumped the SVU detectives. The trail had gone cold because there were no new leads. A 13 year old girl had been missing five days. The likely suspect was John Watson, a do-gooder for a charitable organization. They had found child pornography pictures on his computer and chat-room conversations between he and the girl, with him posing as a 13 year old girl. But it was all circumstantial evidence. The DA's office could do nothing unless the detective came up with some real evidence.

The Special Victims attorneys working under Mike had been recently inundated with various cases lately. Besides the heavy caseload, he was dealing with two high profile celebrity sex cases, one being handled by ADA Alex Cabot and the other by ADA Casey Novak. The other less notorious cases were being farmed out to lower-level junior lawyers. All his prosecutors were stretched to the max.

So this Watson case was the runt of the litter, ignored because there were no new leads. Mike didn't want to file this case away as inactive, so for now, here it sat, cluttered on his desk.

He looked at his watch. It was almost lunchtime and he had accomplished nothing.

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Connie jostled her way through the heavy crowds on the New York sidewalks.

There were the sounds of traffic and sights of bikers, cars, buses, and taxis everywhere. Everyone had to be somewhere now. A driver stuck his head out of his vehicle, cussing. The blasting of horns could be heard as jackhammering sounds continued at a construction site.

Welcome to New York City.

There was a strange mixture of feelings inside her; gladness that she was here in New York again, along with a touch of sadness that things were different in the short time she had been away.

One Hogan Place loomed in front of her. Mike was here in the building. When she had last seen him at the park, the shock of seeing him with someone had taken her by surprise. She regretted running away and now she was ready to face him.

She had missed their bantering, their natural way of conversation. There was no one in the LA office that she had developed the same rapport.

She straightened her street clothes. At least she looked decent now. Not like the other day when she was rumpled and sweaty as she ran away like a coward. That wasn't her at all; she was not the type to run away from anything! With decisiveness, she would meet up with Mike, her head held high.

It was lunchtime at the DA's office. She purposely chose this time so she would face an emptied office. Her sole purpose was to talk with Mike.

Reggie the security guard greeted her at the front desk and gave her carte blanche to go on up to the higher floors. Connie stepped into the elevator and pushed the button that would take her to her former office.

Connie was nervous, wondering what to say to Mike. She half- heartedly wanted to turn back but then the elevator "dinged" and its doors slid opened.

Memories flooded Connie as she encountered the familiar rows of desks separated by windowed wood-grained cubicles. She smiled as she walked past the ordinary, traditional dark wooden desks and chairs, all lit by dim florescent lighting from up above.

This was so unlike the offices in LA which spoke of laidback modernism with it's light oak office furniture, potted palm plants and LED lights.

She stopped when she came to the desk that had been previously hers. How many hours had she spent here pouring over various cases?

The same old empty chair sat opposite her desk. The one Mike used to sit in to discuss cases, sometimes as he munched on nuts. Now the desk was filled with unrecognizable files and objects. She picked up a framed photograph of the current occupant posing with her husband. Lovely couple.

Her head turned in the direction of Mike's office. She was disappointed to see he was not at his desk at noon, which was unusual. Perhaps she should wait in his office, she thought. Images of seeing his bat and ball infused her thoughts, the first items she would look for.

She paused at his doorway, taken aback by what she saw. Nothing in Mike's office looked familiar.

Someone else was obviously occupying this office now. Her heart sank. All the pictures, all the court props, all his baseball memorabilia and even the whiteboard were gone. Whoever worked here now was neat and organized and liked the room to look sparse, she surmised dishearteningly.

The past was but a memory now.

She heard a lone female voice speaking in a different room. It had to be Brenda, Jack's secretary. Connie traveled down the hallway to Brenda's desk, located just outside the District Attorney's office. Brenda was just getting off the phone.

"Connie!" greeted Brenda, as she ran around her desk to embrace Connie, "Oh my goodness! You've made it back!"

Brenda, the mother hen of the office, filled Connie in on all the office gossip. Connie laughed at all the office antics.

Then Brenda informed her on the change of venue regarding the retirement party. Turns out the invite list had taken a life of its own and Brenda had to switch the location in order to accommodate the longer list. Fortunately the mayor had offered his place of residence for the gathering.

"So I guess Jack had been much admired, despite his persistent grumpy demeanor!" Brenda exclaimed.

"But we won't let him know that!" Connie added as both women giggled.

"A-men to that!" said Brenda, who then she tilted her head with a rather teasing look about her, "And I am sure you are _especially_ looking forward to the party!"

"Oh?" Connie asked, "Why? Is something special happening there?"

"Well, not with the party _itself,_" Brenda implied, "I'm talking about you being squired about by a most handsome prosecutor!"

Connie looked puzzled, "What do you mean, Brenda? I'm flying solo on this one."

Brenda's face fell. "W-What? but I thought when Mike RSVP'd that he was bringing a date—"

Brenda looked embarrassed and flustered at the same time as her phone rang. She cleared her throat.

"I need to get that " Brenda explained, "I'm expecting a call from the governor's secretary." She went back around the desk and answered the phone. Soon she was involved in a complex conversation regarding scheduling problems. Brenda covered the mouthpiece of the phone while mouthing "Sorry," to Connie.

Connie smiled and waved a simple goodbye as she left.

A pang of disappointment assailed her thoughts as she walked back to the elevator. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had always held out hope that one day that she would return to New York and continue to prosecute cases alongside Jack and Mike. But after today, she knew that prospect had dissipated.

Change, Connie sighed, was inevitable.

Perhaps she didn't belong in New York after all, she thought despondently.

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One floor up, Mike was working through his lunch.

He used to look forward to meals at his desk when he worked alongside Connie on a case. The two of them sharing lukewarm Chinese food out of cheap white boxes was infinitely more enjoyable than dining at the most exquisite restaurant with anyone else.

Mike missed those times.

As he took a bite of his lunch, Mike looked down his office window to view all the New Yorkers scurrying about throughout the city. Despite being surrounded by people from all sides, he felt truly alone.

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_(One reviewer hoped I would be inspired enough to finish this story. The answer is yes, yes yes! I will see it through-please don't give up on my story!)_

_Mike and Connie meet up next chapter!_

**_Thanks for the nice responses and please continue/begin to leave a review! _**:)


	5. Chapter 5

From across the room

Chapter 5

Jack's retirement party was impressive.

The guests began to arrive at Mayor Johnson's ornate residence at eight o'clock and were shown in the drawing room. The town estate was designed for extravagant house parties in which networking was essential and political discussions were a foregone conclusion.

An immense curving staircase highlighted the circular space of the room. The main rooms of the mansion branched out into clusters of rooms and visiting areas that opened into the pool area or the garden. Very impressive for a mayor who was considered "of the people."

Upstairs in the ladies room, Connie could hear the sophisticated chatter from below. Closing her eyes for a second, she tried to push aside any hesitations regarding tonight.

She certainly had not been prepared to attend a posh soiree.

All she could rummage up from her packed suitcase was a simple sleeveless red silk wrap dress. It was her favorite dress because she liked how it clung perfectly to her curves before flaring out attractively. But it seemed too plain for this occasion. The other guests had arrived wearing sequins, sparkles and diamonds.

After accessorizing it with a pearl necklace, she stared in the mirror. Her entire outfit was just…too understated in comparison to what all the other ladies had worn to the affair. But that was all she had and it would just have to do.

Everyone seemed to have arrived with someone. She felt conspicuous in her aloneness.

If it weren't for Jack, she would have made an early departure back to LA. But she wanted to be here for him. She took a deep breath as she touched-up her make up. Standing up, she took a deep breath. It was time she emerged from the safe cocoon of the room to face her past.

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Downstairs in the main drawing room, Mike was trying to feign interest in what the three city council members were discussing. He knew being Bureau Chief meant he had to learn how to play the political game, but frankly, he was bored.

Even Carly had left his side. He looked around the room at the crowd of people and saw Jack laughing and conversing with the mayor. Mike dutifully nodded within his own social group as one of the council members discussed improvements made to NY animal shelters.

A server had walked by carrying flutes of champagne. Mike reached out to grab one of the glasses. Something to hold in his hand to keep himself occupied as the city councilman rambled on.

"...If we expand the business hours for animal hospitals, I believe that...that..._my_ _god!"_he exclaimed, looking towards the staircase,_"_..._Who...is that vision of loveliness_?"

With the abrupt shift in conversation, Mike followed the council member's gaze up the staircase. Mike did a double take as he realized whom the councilman had been admiring.

Air swiftly rushed out of his lungs, making it impossible for him to speak.

_Connie._

From up above, Connie was unaware of a certain pair of intense eyes on her as she strode across the landing. Breathe deep and act calm, she internalized, as she started to make her way down the grand staircase. All of Connie's sensation were roused at the thought he could be here in this room.

With his mouth agape, Mike couldn't take his eyes off her.

She floated down the stairs looking absolutely…alluring and enchanting.

Making her way down, the silk skirt of her dress flowed and swept fluidly against her leg. Her soft auburn hair, simple red silk dress and natural beauty stood out among the ornately stiff-dressed, coiffed, heavily-made up women in the room.

Oblivious to those around him, Mike observed Connie's every gesture, her every move.

As she descended further down the stairs, she paused and graciously greeted Judge Jamie Ross and Estelle Adams on the stairway, who had been making their way up.

Mike had forgotten how much he missed the sight of her. Everything else in the room fell by the wayside; the gaiety, the laughter, the conversation had all frittered away.

Midway down the stairs, Connie scanned the room below and halted at the sight of Mike.

A slight smile began to form on her lips. Her descending steps slowed as their gazes caught. By the time she had reached the bottom of the stairway, other people were there to greet her.

As she shook their hands, she turned to look at him, her gentle, beautiful eyes lingering on his vivid blue ones from across the room. He acknowledged her with a wistful smile that made her heart soar.

_Mike_.

The glow from Connie's cheeks had nothing to do with the warmth in the room. Her entire body tingled just knowing he was in the same room. He somehow stood apart from all the other men in tuxes. Looking debonair and handsome, he eyed her in a way she had only dreamed about.

Connie slowly meandered along the edge of the room, the crowd of party-goers acting as a median to separate them. She watched him through the gaps in bodies as he conversed with three distinguished looking men, a champagne glass held in his hand.

He continued socializing, but his mind was not on the discussion taking place. In the middle of the talk, he glanced up in her direction, his expression hypnotized when he spotted her again. She, too, was unable to tear her eyes away from him.

It was as though they were the only two people in the room.

One of the men in Mike's group asked him a question and he recovered to join in their conversation. Connie maneuvered to a clearing between two other persons to get a better glimpse of him.

In the middle of his talk, he unexpectedly looked over in her direction, as if she were the only woman he had ever yearned for.

Mike took a deep breath and gathered his courage. Placing the champagne glass down, he uttered an "Excuse me" to his group, as he stepped away from his colleagues.

Connie was trying to steady her trembling body as she watched him. _He was headed her way_. He twisted and turned to avoid the many people gathered in small circles throughout the room.

Mike reached her in no time, and her heart was beating frantically.

"Connie... I-I hadn't expected to see you here," he said, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Mike," Connie breathed, "It's been so long-"

And then they were interrupted.

"Mike! Mike!"

Connie heard, rather than saw, Carly's arrival. In no time Carly was by his side. "Mike! _There you are_! The Mayor and Jack are dying to say hello to you!" She quickly pulled him towards the other way, "The _Ma-yor,_ Mike!."

It happened so quickly. Mike turned to Connie, who shrugged an _oh, well_ gesture before quietly stating, "You can't keep the Mayor waiting, Mike."

The moment was broken.

Carly was tugging at his arm again, but before he turned away, he managed to leaned towards Connie and out of the listening range of Carly, he quietly pleaded, "_Please! Meet me on the garden bench in twenty minutes!_"

Carly continued pulling Mike. He turned back once to look regretfully at Connie.

Connie's heart fell as she watched the backside of Mike disappearing in the crowd, their distance widening once more. Before she dropped her gaze, she got a look at Carly, who had turned around and looked directly at her with a petty and spiteful smile.

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	6. Chapter 6

An unexpected rendezvous

Chapter 6

The crowd in the ballroom was gathered around the makeshift stage as Jack McCoy thanked everyone for their well wishes and ended his speech. Jack looked out amongst the crowd, touched that so many came for his send off.

"…and so I leave the legal system in your very capable hands," Jack addressed his last words, "and if there's anything I've learned as a lawyer, it's that justice always prevails- two out of five times."

The audience chuckled as they gave an ovation. Jack nodded gratefully as the applause continued. Someone in the crowd managed to yell above the fray, "Jack! what is your opinion about retirement?"

Jack quickly quipped, "The only bad thing about retirement is there is never a day off!" to which there was even greater laughter and applause.

Jack stepped down, shaking hands and greeting many well-wishers. As he scanned through the crowd, his entire face lit up at the sight of someone he had not seen in over a year.

He pushed his way through the crowd and before Connie realized it, he embraced her in a fatherly hug.

"My god, Connie! You look absolutely wonderful! I'm so glad you're here!"

She laughed happily.

"How could I miss seeing your shining moment, Jack?" Connie smiled.

"My shining moment occurred roughly 10 years ago in the courtroom!" Jack responded.

"Oh, Jack!" Connie laughed, glad he was enjoying himself, "I just hope you do not have any regrets about retiring?"

"It's been a thrilling roller coaster ride, but I think my 'E' ticket of justice has been hole-punched out," Jack admitted with a smile, "but, I must say, it was_ one hell of a ride!_"

Connie could not help but reach out and hug him for probably the last time. She truly would miss him. Justice was losing a great crusader.

They continued conversing for awhile about the "good old days".

During their conversation, Jack noticed how Connie's eyes would continually flit over to the opened door of the gardens. When Jack looked in that direction, he saw nothing amiss. Connie glanced surreptitiously at her watch.

"Connie, I'm not keeping you from an important appointment, am I?" Jack asked in a teasing way.

She blushed at being caught, "No, of course not, Jack! There is no place I would rather be than here!"

Jack looked doubtful.

"By the way, have you seen Mike yet?" Jack asked, looking around the huge crowd. He could not help but notice Connie's cheeks looking flushed.

"M-Mike?" Connie looked hesitant, "Oh, um... is... he supposed to be here?"

Connie was a great prosecutor, but a terrible actress, Jack internalized. She couldn't even look straight at him. He'd seen that nervous behavior before- from someone on the witness stand when they had committed perjury.

"I wonder where he could have gone off to?" Jack questioned, watching Connie intently.

Jack saw the giveaway glimpse from Connie as her eyes darted towards the door leading to the garden again. It didn't take a genius to make the connection between Mike and the garden.

Soon, a small group of people converged on the two and insisted Jack join them in their merrymaking. Connie indicated with an encouraging gesture that Jack needed to go, to be part of his own celebration.

Before he went, Jack reached out and touched her arm, "All I ever wished for you is to be happy, Connie."

There was a tinge of sadness as Jack watched Connie. She was one of the most kind, intelligent, and attractive women he had ever known, yet love had always eluded her.

Connie half- smiled, "Jack, I _am_ happy."

Jack nodded knowingly, "There's happy and there's passionately happy. I hope you find the latter."

Connie looked at him questionably. He inclined his head towards the garden door, "_Now_, why don't you go and get that fresh air you've been yearning for?

_He knows I'm meeting Mike, _she thought, as she watched him being led away by a cavalcade of well-wishers.

She looked longingly across the room at the opened veranda door leading to the garden.

Mike could be waiting for her right this very minute, she thought. With optimism filling her heart, she escaped through the side door.

The night air was a balm to her muddled thoughts as she looked around the darkened greenery outside.

Soft golden lights spread across the stone terrace in rectangular patches from each doorway or window. She spotted a bench shelved under one low-hanging branch. The rest of the area was shrouded in darkness due to the thick tree limbs, with even the moonlight unable to penetrate.

After the boisterous babbling from inside, Connie welcomed the quietness and solitude. She walked into a pool of light and was aware of a dark shadow on the bench she had originally thought was part of the tree.

"Mike?" she whispered into the shade.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward. Suddenly a light appeared from an upstairs room, near enough to cast a beam of light that broke through the leaves of the trees.

It was Mike, looking sleek and elegant in the well-tailored tux.

And he was looking at her with an intensity that made very inch of her skin burn.

"Connie."

The sound of his voice seemed to open pathways of sensations inside of her. She had always been drawn to his voice. It was strong, yet soft, a slightly drawn-out East Coast accent laced with sincerity.

It took all her strength to keep breathing regularly.

"Mike," she said more assuredly, "Hello."

There was a slight coolness in the night air. Gallantly, Mike removed his jacket and held it out for her.

"Here, this will help keep you warm."

If anything, Connie was overly _warm_ due to his presence, as he stepped closer to drape the jacket over her shoulders. But she liked the idea of wearing something he had just worn. Using one of her hands, she held the lapels shut, wrapping the jacket tighter around her shoulders. She loved the masculine scent of his jacket.

"Thank you, Mike."

Mike liked the way she was swaddled in his huge jacket. The overly-large tux jacket worked to emphasize her femininity even more.

"Connie, it's wonderful to see you here. And you... look...absolutely stunning tonight...I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

A scarlet color rose to her cheeks at the compliment.

Connie tried to stem the emotions rising from her. You look devilishly handsome yourself, Connie thought, but could not bring up the words. She didn't dare meet Mikes gaze, afraid that he would be able to read her thoughts.

Sensing the uneasiness, he decided to change the subject. Although he could hear his own heart pounding, his mind focused on the idea of keeping her here as long as possible.

"How is living in LA?" he asked.

"Sunny," she relaxed with a smile, glad to be on safe ground again, "very sunny!…And you? Are you no longer working at the DA's office?"

Oh no, thought Connie, kicking herself, he'll know she had purposely tried to locate him.

"Oh, I'm still there, alright.." explained Mike., "...but I'm one floor up. I was recently promoted to Bureau Chief of the SVU unit.

Her eyes lit up at his news, "Congratulations! I am so happy for you, Mike!"

Their conversation was so mundane, yet spoken in the hushed, dark surroundings of the garden, it felt so intimate.

His Blackberry buzzed. He held up a finger, "I'm sorry. This will just take a sec."

He scowled as he read the message. After he hung up, he looked back towards the noisily lit room. Connie assumed it was Carly.

Connie knew her time with him was short, but surely not this short.

"You have to get back?" She tried to maintain an impassive facade, but inside she was dreading the answer.

"Not of my choice, " he admitted, "it's work-related."

"Oh, of course, Mike, you need to get back... I understand," said Connie, trying to give him a brave smile, "You have so many new responsibilities now."

A myriad of thoughts entered his mind. Ever since he saw her on the steps landing this evening, he knew he would say anything, do anything to convince her to remain longer in New York.

"Connie, before we go back in, I wanted to ask you...would you be interested in being first chair on a case?"

Connie held her breath. A case _here_. There was a spark of interest in her eyes.

"I'm listening," she encouraged, as she leaned in.

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	7. Chapter 7

An Agreement

Chapter 7

Mike stood facing Connie in the darkness of terrace gardens, in the back of the Mayor's residence. Memories of working with Connie flooded his senses as she stood in front of him. It was like their year apart had not occurred as he drank in the familiarity of her once more.

He had stated he needed her help on a case. Her large brown eyes gleamed in the soft moonlit night as she waited for Mike to explain further.

Earlier that evening Brenda had informed him that Connie's mother had just qualified for home health-assisted care from a registered nurse. So therefore, Connie's responsibility in the care of her mother would dwindle down from caretaker to companion.

So selfishly he hoped she might consider working for him on this case. He just wanted a little more time with her.

"Connie, I have a case pending that could use a top litigator," he tried to sell his point, "I know it may seem rather ill-occasioned to ask at a party, but I don't know when we will ever be alone again to talk, and I did not want to miss this opportunity."

He waited anxiously for any signs of refusal from her.

"What kind of case, Mike?"

Good sign. He heaved a sigh of relief.

"This is an inactive case with a missing teen," Mike explained, "We have a suspect, but no arrest, due to all evidence being circumstantial. That text I just read? It was from the detective assigned to the case. There's been a break in the case, so SVU will be making an arrest tonight. I need someone to be lead attorney when it goes to trial."

"Alone?" she inquired.

"You'll be working under my supervision," he simply said.

Somehow that ending statement made her quiver inside as she looked at him with an unreadable expression. The cloudless night loomed around them, vast and cool, making Connie glad for the warmth of Mike's jacket. It did not take her long to decide.

"When would you like me to start, Mike?"

Mike's hopes soared.

"First thing tomorrow?"

"First thing," she restated as they verbally sealed the agreement. She could not have been happier as they exchanged smiles.

"I have total confidence that you will do an excellent job," stated Mike, trying to steady his excitement, "We can go over everything in more detail tomorrow. It'll give me something to look forward to in the morning."

She tried not to be disarmed and flattered, but it was difficult. The night air felt charged between them as Connie's stomach seemed to do a flip. She really did not know what to make of the ambiguity of his comments, especially since he was seeing someone.

"Just one thing, Mike," asked Connie, a bit cautiously, "Will this arrangement make things... um...uncomfortable between you and Carly?'

She was mesmerized by the clearness of his deep blue eyes as he remained still.

"Connie, no one else factors into this," he stated quietly.

Connie struggled against a senseless feeling of gladness. Then she reminded herself that he had merely offered her an opportunity to litigate a case, it was nothing personal.

They turned at the sound of the opening door leading from the main estate to the garden.

It was one of the servers, "Pardon the intrusion, Mr. Cutter, Miss Rubirosa, " the waiter apologized, "but our host, the mayor, requests everyone to make an appearance in the ballroom for the partaking of the ceremonial cake."

Mike turned to look at her, once more feeling that prickling sensation in the pit of his stomach at how lovely she looked tonight. Just the sight of Connie again reminded Mike that he once had the ability to feel pure joy -something he had not felt for a year.

Connie reluctantly removed his jacket from her shoulders and returned it back to him. She already missed its cozy warmth as the coolness of the night swept across her shoulders. She was quite certain that if an auction were held tonight for this jacket, she would have purchased it with all the money that remained in her savings account.

Mike effortlessly put his jacket back on and then, to Connie's surprise, offered his arm to her.

"Connie, shall we?"

A warm current that ran underneath his words. Of course, holding onto a gentleman's arm was just old-fashioned courtesy, but Connie became slightly unnerved. Mike was now her provisional boss, after all.

He had been ready to drop his arm when she hesitantly reached out and clasped it.

"Thank you, Mike."

Her shy smile warmed his heart as her fingers were nestled in the bent of his arm.

It was such a tiny gesture, but the reality of Connie's touch, after years of hopeless longing for any physical contact from her made Mike's breathing become abruptly fractured. Instinctively he covered his reassuring hand over hers and drew her in closer until he could smell the tantalizing scent of her perfume.

And then he cordially escorted her back into the ballroom, a feeling of euphoria tucked away in his thoughts.

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The Next Morning

The Plaza in New York City was known for its timeless grandeur intermixed with contemporary spirit. Each room was lavishly inspired by French styling, from inlaid curved woods to the rich, delicate silken materials of cushions and bed sheets.

Connie woke with a start in the opulent grandeur of her Louis XV King size bed. With a smile already plastered on her face, memories of last night still lingered in her mind. It was like she was Cinderella, reliving her night at the ball. She recalled how her heartbeat had quickened and her fingers had tingled when he had tucked her hand in the crock of his arm and led her back inside.

And her happiness did not end there.

Today would be the first day of her being the lead attorney on a case in New York! A smile tugged at her mouth with that thought. She sat up and gave a big stretch, ready to face the world. She was bustling with excitement as she flipped the covers and jumped out of bed. At the thought of seeing Mike, her steps became even lighter and she experienced a warm ache inside of her.

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When Mike walked out of the elevator to his office, he was whistling. He passed the surprised employees, who wondered what got their boss in such a wonderful mood. Some nodded in stunned silence as he greeted everyone he came in contact with.

His mood soon became all businesslike again when he entered his office.

Alexandria Cabot was already waiting for him, probably to discuss her high profile celebrity case. While he had nothing personal against Alex, she had a strict code of legal ethics that she abided by and she stubbornly stuck to those principles.

It took an hour of negotiations and compromises before she agreed to the steps they would take to move forward with her case.

Before she had turned to leave, she remembered one more thing she wanted to talk to Mike about.

"By the way, Mike, I hope you plan to introduce the new legal team member to everyone in the office," Alexandria pushed up her glasses as she regarded Mike's strong response.

"Connie's already here?" He anxiously inquired as his eyes lit in a way Alex had never seen before. She looked askance at him.

"Ye-es, if we are talking about the same person," stated Alex, "She was actually the first person in this morning, so I sat her in one of the unoccupied desk and gave her Watson's folder to review, why?"

But Mike had stopped hearing as he maneuvered his body left and right, trying to spot Connie through his interior office windows.

Alexandria smiled to herself. Oh, _so it's like that_, she thought.

Her new boss, the all-about-convictions Bureau Chief Mike Cutter had a little puppy crush. Alex wondered if she could use that fact against him when she needed some favor from him. Now would be a good time to test that theory.

Just this morning, Mike had shot down a request for a search warrant, citing weak probable cause. Maybe he would be more willing to initiate the warrant now, Alex reasoned. She looked through her file to show him the paperwork she wanted to file.

"Listen, Mike..."Alex began as she looked up from her file, "I also want to bring up..."

She looked around his office. Mike was already gone.

Oh, he has it _ba-ad,_ Alex grinned.

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	8. Chapter 8

The case begins

Chapter 8

When Connie walked into arraignment court, the noise and confusion level was much higher than what she had experienced in LA. Back there, everything was done in an orderly, somewhat efficient manner. Southern Californians had adjusted to waiting. New Yorkers still felt they shouldn't have to.

She looked around at the long-established wooden structures of the seats and the judge's bench. She had not realized how much she missed traditional dark-wood grained surfaces.

The bailiff announced the docket case number. Connie stood on her side of her table, as defense attorney Stan Exley stood behind his, alongside the defendant, John Watson.

Connie looked across the way and noted that defendant John Watson was an attractive, unassuming individual, who looked overwhelmed at the proceedings. That would work in his favor, she thought dishearteningly as the judge pounded the gavel.

Judge Sylvia Quinn looked up from her folder and after the lawyers identified themselves, she asked for the defendant's plea.

"Not guilty your honor," John Watson's voice was slightly shaky.

"Your honor, the people are seeking remand," began Connie, "Mr. Watson is charged with the kidnapping of a minor, whom to this day authorities have been unable to locate. We have transcripts of Mr. Watson's communications with said teenager, culminating in a meeting on the day she went missing. As further proof to his guilt, SVU detectives recovered child pornography pictures on his computer as well as the victim's cell phone in the bedroom of Mr. Watson. We fear Mr. Watson may be a flight risk due to the nature of the crime, in addition to the absence of family in the near vicinity."

"Your ho-_nor_," rebutted Exley sounding exasperated, "Miss Rubirosa is already throwing in the kitchen sink in an attempt to try the entire case here and now! The reality is that Mr. Watson _does_ have very strong ties to the community. He has worked tirelessly for 20 years in community service, helping troubled teens, no less! In addition, the so-called evidence Miss Rubirosa plans to present is purely circumstantial. No witnesses, nothing to tie Mr. Watson directly to any crime. The defendant is devastated by the charges leveled against him and he is looking forward to his day in court. He is, wholeheartedly, innocent!"

It did not take the judge very long to rule.

"Save the editorializing for drama class, Mr. Exley. Bail is set at $100,000."

As the judge was ready to pound the gavel again for the next case, Exley interrupted.

"Begging the court's indulgence further," inserted Exley, "I also request a dismissal of Miss Rubirosa as lead attorney for the prosecution side."

_What?_ Connie whipped her head to look at Exley. Murmurings could be heard from the gallery. The judge banged for order.

"On what grounds, Mr. Exley?" she asked, when silence prevailed again, "Are you implying that you do not find Miss Rubirosa competent as a prosecutor on this case?"

Mr. Exley stood taller.

"Not at all, your honor. Miss Rubirosa's reputation as a lawyer is sterling. However, it has come to my attention that Miss Rubirosa is simply a _visitor_ to our wonderful city," Exley explained, "and if this trial is prolonged- which I am sure it will be, with the facts I will present- Miss Rubirosa will be long gone before the trial ends. This in turn will allow prosecution to delay proceedings by asking for continuances as they seek new counsel."

"I have to admit, Mr. Exley makes a good point." Judge Quinn nodded in agreement, "...and I, for one, do not care to drag out this trial. I hope, Miss Rubirosa, that the people are not using your short-term visit as strategy to extend the case in the future? Point blank, Miss Rubirosa, do you intend to see this case to the end, irregardless of its length?"

Exley had a smug look plastered on his face as Connie was caught off-guard.

"Your honor, I-I…that is to say…."

"Miss Rubirosa, a simple _yes_ or _no_ will suffice," lectured the judge as she pointed to her watch while at the same time holding out her arm, "I do have other cases to decide today."

Connie looked over at Exley. She was not going to let that weasel get the better of her.

"I apologize, your honor, for my delayed response...Y-Yes!...My plans are to see this court case through to the very end."

The defense lawyer guffawed.

"Is that so, Miss Rubirosa? And we are expected to just take your word for it?" Exley challenged, looking at Connie, "On whose say-so, besides your own?"

Connie looked befuddled as a familiar male voice boomed from the back of room.

"...On _my_ say-so, your Honor!"

Heads turned as Mike stood from the back row of the courtroom and addressed the judge, "Permission to approach the counsel's table, your Honor?"

When the judge nodded, Mike walked up and gave a stunned Connie an encouraging smile as he respectfully stood next to her. Having him standing next to her felt so...comforting, somehow. Connie had to look down in order to hide her pleased smile.

Judge Quinn raised a questioning brow, "_Well, Mr. Cutter,_ I did not realize that a Bureau Chief took such an interest in each individual one of his cases!"

"If only it were so, your Honor," admitted Mike, "for though every case is important to me, this one tragically involves a missing teenager. My interest in this case, therefore, is absolute. Now, in regards to Miss Rubirosa being the lead attorney on this case, I have had the pleasure of working alongside her and found her dedication unwavering. "

Mike turned to give Connie a reassuring nod, "You have my word, as her immediate supervisor, that she will see this case to its conclusion."

The judge smiled her approval, "Very well, the court is satisfied... Motion denied, Mr. Exley...unless you have something _additional_ you wanted to say?"

Defense lawyer Exley drew a breath of defeat, "No, no, your honor."

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Mike walked with Connie out of the courthouse.

"Mike," said Connie, turning to face him, "It was good you were present in the courtroom. That tactical move of Exley's to remove me from the case was totally unexpected...so...thanks."

"I think I should be the one thanking _you_," said Mike, "I'm glad you made a promise to stay for the duration of the case."

Connie didn't look disappointed at that prospect, "I believe that's the easy part. If just staying the entire length of a trial was enough to win a case, your conviction rate would zoom through the roof!"

"With you on this case, Connie, I'm sure we have an excellent chance for conviction on this case."

Connie felt as if she was walking on clouds. To be back New York, prosecuting and especially to be back with Mike made her ecstatically happy. She suddenly felt very bold.

"Mike, do you have time for coffee at the street cafe? My treat, of course."

Mike's expression at first showed surprise before it changed to a sincere look of regret. He had already spent precious time he could not afford sitting in the courtroom, "A most promising invitation…and…if it were any other time, Connie... but I have a very tight schedule today." His eyes were pleading for her to understand.

Of course Connie understood, although a wistful ache had settled in, "Sure, Mike, I'll see you back at the office, then?"

He nodded, "I'll be in the office much much later. This new DA has me running around in elliptical circles around the city!"

Connie tried not to show her disappointment, but it was difficult. She had images of them relaxing with the steaming mug of coffee in front of them, reliving old times or discussing this current case.

There was an obvious reluctance from Mike as he turned to leave. She watched as he gave her a back wave and bounded down the steps, already late for his next appointment.

Mike had other responsibilities, Connie acknowledged to herself. Regretfully, it would not be like before, where the two of them would be working on a singular case. He was now overseeing a vast number of cases all at once. She sighed, wishing there were more hours in a day. Knowing she also had much to do, she started heading down the steps.

"Connie!"

It was a female voice. Connie recognized it and closed her eyes in dread. Opening them, she turned and saw Carly rushing towards her.

"Car-ly," stated Connie, not sure what to make of her arrival, "What a surprise to see you here."

But Carly was not in the mood for small talk.

"I'd like to talk with you in private," Carly stated in a no-nonsense manner.

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	9. Chapter 9

Two meetings

Chapter 9

The New York County Courthouse was a massive concrete building, known for its hundred- foot wide extensive stairway and towering granite colonnade.

It was on these steps that Connie and Carly stood, opponents facing one another.

Carly gave Connie a long, measuring stare, "I wanted to talk to you about Mike."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time to talk," responded Connie, "I've just finished court and I have a lot to do to prepare for this case."

Connie turned and started to make her way down the steps, looking straight ahead. She felt as if her stomach had turned into a block of wood, it felt heavy and awkward. Carly had no choice but to follow Connie down the steps, making sure she'd reached the bottom of the steps first, in order to face Connie head on.

Once both of them reached the leveled sidewalk, Connie heaved a sigh of frustration, knowing Carly wasn't going to go away any time soon.

"I told you, Carly, I don't have the time..."

Carly chose to ignore her comment.

"Tell me, Connie, how does it feel to have Mike wrapped around your little finger?" Carly accused, her face slightly twisted, "Even **_I_** could see that Mike obviously has a thing for you."

_Mike obviously has a thing for you._ A feeling of hope and longing surged through her heart at the thought that Mike might hold certain feelings for her outside a work environment. At times he seemed attracted to her, and yet, he always kept their relationship professional.

Whatever feelings Connie had, she was determined that they remain private.

"Why are we even discussing this?" asked Connie bluntly, "You and I haven't been exactly friends—we'll barely even acquaintances."

"You need to know that Mike and I are together," Carly bristled, bending the truth.

Although Connie had expected Carly to say something to that effect, Connie still took a quick breath as her lungs contracted.

"I don't see how this even concerns me," Connie stated coolly.

"Because…I want you to stop leading him on" Carly tone was almost threatening, "Mike and I were doing fine until _you_ re-entered his life! That prissy, drippy, overly- sweet act of yours may fool him, but not me! Why did you even come back? You are ruining _everything_!"

Connie swayed a little, her knees locked and shaking. But she was determined not to let Carly see how the jabs were affecting her.

"_Leading him on? I have never-_-" Connie stopped herself and instead stiffly replied, "...Look, Carly, I don't have the time nor the inclination to talk about this… now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do!"

As Connie tried to move around Carly, her shoulder accidentally brushed against Carly's.

"Hey! Watch that!" Carly scowled, making a big deal of rubbing her shoulder.

Connie was ready to walk away, but with that last statement, she lost her patience with this madwoman. With her eyes flashing, Connie turned quickly to face Carly again, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"**No, _you watch it_, Carly! You were the one who accosted _me_ in public, not the other way around!"** Connie huffed before she turned back around and continued walking.

But Carly would get the last words in, as she shouted out with seething outrage at Connie as she walked away.

_"**He **_**_was __happy __with me, __committed __to __ME until __YOU __came __along! _**You're a HUSSY! **__**"

Noting a few people's heads turning at Carly's spewed words, Connie never looked back as she hurriedly strode over to her car.

Connie's outward demeanor showed strength, but she inside, her body was trembling.

Once safely ensconced in her car, Connie leaned back on the headrest, shutting her eyes, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She tried to block out Carly's appalling words from her mind. Clenching her hand before opening her eyes, she had not realize how upset she was until she saw that her nails had left a deep crescent mark in her palm.

Perhaps Carly was right. Unintentionally, she was interfering with Mike's personal life, which in turn, was causing an upheaval in her own life.

Her life had always been neat and orderly. She certainly didn't need any complications in her life now.

The beating of her heart had finally slowed enough to allow her to breathe regularly. She concluded that in the future, she would just have to be very professional around Mike.

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It was very late when Mike stepped off the elevator and headed towards his office. In one hand he held his briefcase and in the other he carried a medium sized brown paper bag.

He had been out overseeing other cases all day. Now he was back in the office for documentation purposes. As he walked down the long corridor, he glanced at all the emptied desks.

The entire DA's office was darkened except for one desk lamp that shone a triangular-shaped light on a cornered desk. Mike smiled, knowing which prosecutor had stayed late.

Connie was sitting at her tiny desk in the corner, intensely fixated on her one file. She had been in such deep concentration, she had not heard Mike's arrival until he sat in the chair opposite her desk.

She had already decided that she was going to keep their interactions solely impersonal and professional.

But when she looked up and saw him seated across from her, her heart tugged at the memory of when he used to sit in the seat opposite hers to discuss a matter.

"Hi," Mike's blue eyes ensnared her with a steady gaze.

Connie tried to control her tremor.

"Hi," she shakily replied back, as she felt a blush rising within her. My god, she internalized, he had been gone less than a day, and she was already struggling to sound normal...what was wrong with her?

"I figured you'd still be here," grinned Mike, holding up the brown bag, "So I picked up some food from Wong's."

He placed the bag on the table. Instantly they got a whiff of the overly greasy, soy sauce flavored ingredients emitting from the brown bag. Connie watched Mike's every movement as he unfolded the top of the bag and took out two takeout boxes, two sets of chopsticks, and a bag of egg rolls.

It was like old times.

She gladly accepted one of the white boxes and a set of chopsticks. Connie couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. The confrontation with Carly earlier had vanished from her mind. Her nerves calmed down as she opened the white box.

"Thanks, Mike, I could do with some dinner. This chow mein looks delicious."

Mike looked amused as he pointed to the bag of egg rolls.

"Oh, then, you'll be_ euphoric_ over the egg rolls!"

Connie's smile became wider.

"Well, I _would_ be, but..." she jested, "...if I recall correctly when we _used_ to share the egg rolls, I'd get _one_ for every _three_ egg rolls you'd get."

Mike pretended to look offended.

"_Noo-o_! Did I hear right? _Did you just accuse me of being... an egg roll thief?_…" He then reached in the paper bag again, and like a magician, produced a second package of egg rolls, "Voila!...I just quashed your motion to insult..._and_... I will soon file a motion to compel you not to used up all the dipping sauce, like you had done in the past."

Connie's face showed playful indignation.

"I can't imagine what you mean, Mike. I have always been very conservative with sauce usage!"

She then made an obvious deep dunk in the small sauce container with her egg roll, twirling the roll all around while watching him with a mischievous grin.

"_Hey!_' feigned Mike, pretending to be shock, "You'll be sorry, once _my_ hand starts hovering around the sauce!"

Connie couldn't help laughing at Mike's playful threat. She watched as he smiled back at her, his deep dimples showing.

_But he __was __involved __with __someone else._

She needed to keep that in mind, despite taking such delight in his company.

When Connie looked his way again, heat seemed to dance beneath her skin.

Although she admired his legal acumen at work, there was this other side to Mike, a rather seductive boyish charm about him. Tonight it was on full display.

She shook her head, wondering how she was going to resist her growing attraction to Michael Cutter.

.

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_(Note to SG: I had Connie touch Carly, just for you!)_

_Please __review._


	10. Chapter 10

A beginning and an ending

Chapter 10

In a way, they were starting over again.

In the quiet solitude of a corner office desk, the two attorneys privately discussed the changes to their lives for the last year. Connie found herself opening up to him, as he listened intently to all her family stories and life in LA. Then it was her turn to listen to as he explained the tumultuous year he had, culminating in his promotion.

It was getting very late, but neither one was aware of the time.

Mike was now discussing his frustrations as a Bureau Chief.

"The most difficult part of this job," Mike explained, "is dealing with headstrong attorneys who insist on doing things their way only."

He paused when he realized the irony of his statement, which also made Connie raise her eyebrow.

"_I know, I know,_" conceded Mike, "It's like I am dealing with several me's! I just feel that sometimes this job requires the patience of a saint!"

Connie made an obvious gesture of rolling her eyes.

"So...let me get this straight, Mike...are you saying that you are a saint?" Connie teased.

Simmering amusement showed in his eyes.

"As we say in the courtroom, Connie, 'asked and answered!'"

They exchanged smiles, content to be in each other's company.

As Connie continued the last of her meal, she guiltily realized she was enjoying the novelty of being alone with him too much.

"I think we better switch our attentions to my case," Connie reluctantly suggested.

Mike nodded agreeably.

"Fine, although there is not much to discuss," Mike commented, taking a bite of his food, "I thought I pretty much handed the case to you on a silver platter."

There was hesitation on Connie's end.

"Well, truthfully, Mike, I'm not sure the case is as solid as it looks."

This made Mike sit up and take notice, "Are you serious, Connie? We had enough evidence for an arrest and you sounded pretty impressive against Watson at arraignment court."

Connie took another bite before putting her box down. "Mike, take a look at this." She reached over to show him the opened file as she attempted to make her point.

"The detectives had interviewed all the kids and staff at the community center, all 28 of them, and everyone spoke highly of him. No red flags. Nothing."

"That's it?" asked Mike, "_that's_ your evidence for raising reasonable doubt?"

"Pretty flimsy, I admit, but I don't know…" said Connie contemplatively, "It's just that ... well, call it women's intuition, if you will...but I got a different vibe with him in court today… I think I'll go have a chat with Watson myself tomorrow."

Mike did not look as if he approved.

"So you're going to visit him to, _what_, try and verify his innocence?"

"Mike, I didn't say that…I just have some questions for him, is all."

"Connie, I'm stumped…I think the evidence clearly dictates…"

Mike paused. He tried to remain objective, but when it came to Connie, he hated to see disappointment in her lovely face. He ran his hand through his hair, trying the squelch the feeling of frustration that started to rise. He looked at her tentatively before he backed down, "...however, if you have your doubts…I...I trust your instincts."

Connie's relaxed, "Thanks, Mike. I just want to make sure we dot all our _i_'s and cross all our_ t_'s."

As long as those letters spelled "conviction" at the end, Mike thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Connie had reached out for her egg roll at the same time that Mike just happened to be reaching to dunk his in the dip. The back of their hands collided. It had been accidental, but they looked at one another in uncomfortable silence.

That slight touch made Mike's insides tighten into knots. It was as if he could not think straight every time he was in the same room with her.

The slight bump affected Connie as well. There was a pleasurable stirrings of sensations. But she forced down any personal thoughts about him from her mind. The timing was so wrong, she sighed, as she recalled her confrontation with Carly earlier.

Her heart felt heavy. Mike noted her body stiffen, the lighter mood of the night having dissipated.

"Something the matter, Connie?" Mike eyed her with a look of concern.

Connie had not realized she could be so easily read. She forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Fiddling with the empty food containers, she busied herself so that she wouldn't have to look back at him.

"It's just that it's late, Mike...I guess I'm just tired. I need to get back to the hotel. Tomorrow's another day."

Mike tried to hide his disappointment.

"Tomorrow, then," Mike watched her intently, wondering if he had said something to upset her.

.

.

It was almost midnight when Mike returned to his apartment. He threw his jacket on the sofa as he tiredly rubbed his face. He was going to take a shower and then hit the sack. He was exhausted.

He had not been back in his apartment for more than twenty minutes, when he heard a light rap on the door. His heart gave a slight leap of hope as he went to answer the door.

And it plummeted when he saw Carly at the door.

Although it was almost morning, Mike opened the door wider to allow her entrance. Perhaps this was for the better; the sooner he let Carly go, the better for everyone.

Theirs had been a casual relationship with no strings attached, and Mike had appreciated his time with her.

When Connie had originally left, he had poured all his energy into his work, hardly eating or sleeping. Carly had been there to see him through that very lonely period in his life. But Mike always knew Carly was far more invested in this relationship than he ever was.

The two of them sat across from one another on his living room sofa, within the private enclosure of his apartment. Carly purposely crossed her legs seductively.

But Mike was not to be distracted. Treading carefully, he explained that their time together had gone as far as it could.

He did not know what to expect, but he could see that Carly was not taking it well.

She could barely contain herself as her heart spurred into an angry cadence once his words sunk in. Though they had not been physically intimate during this second attempt at a relationship, she had held out hope that eventually what they had would turn into love.

"_How could you do this to me?_" she accused him, "After all I have sacrificed for you! Dammit, Mike, I even _forgave_ you for taking away my prestigious job under Judge Reynolds!"

Mike had not expected such a stormy reaction.

"Carly, we had both mutually agreed that-"

"- it's because of _her,_ isn't it?" Carly interrupted.

Mike didn't even pretend to look baffle at the mention of "her", which upset Carly even more. In Carly's mind, it was unthinkable that Mike would turn to someone else for needs that _she_ longed to fulfill.

Mike replied as gently as he could, "No, Carly, it's not Connie, it's us, or a lack of us. I just don't think we are right for each other. I'm sorry."

"You don't know that, Mike!" Tears had begun surfacing as she pleaded, "You never gave us a chance because you were so convinced that _she_ was the one! Always holding back because of her! _Why?_ What does she have that I don't?"

"Carly, there is no need to bring Connie into this," commented Mike, who was now becoming frustrated with the discussion and wanted to cut it short, "We are done, period. "

But Carly would not be reasonable. To Carly, this was all that hussy's damn fault! She tried to think of something, anything to make Mike see the situation as it was.

"Don't think you will always get what you want, Mike," she almost sneered, "Did you ever consider that perhaps _she_ wouldn't want _you_?"

The last statement cut Mike deep, but he looked right at her when he replied in a quiet tone.

"You're right, Carly. I don't know how Connie feels about me."

Carly at least had the satisfaction of knowing that she was playing into his insecurities.

"So you could be wasting your time chasing someone unattainable, Mike," she pointed out, "when you could have a sure, solid relationship with me!"

Mike let out a deep breath. Carly did have a point, unfortunately. But it was very late and he was emotionally drained. He just wanted to take a hot shower and go to sleep.

Like a prosecutor, Mike would keep it short and to the point.

"Carly... all I can tell you is that since Connie has been back, I've come to the realization that a relationship with anyone else would never work out."

He had surprised himself with those words and Carly was rendered speechless.

...And Mike had spoken it with such conviction that Carly knew she held out no hope.

.

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	11. Chapter 11

A late meeting

Chapter 11

While Mike was having a late night talk with Carly, Connie was still awake in her extravagant hotel room. Wearing the hotel's plush bathrobe, Connie strode across the room towards the bed, having just come out of the shower.

In the cold stillness of the night, she felt so alone.

She found herself reflecting back to the shared meal she had with Mike at the office earlier that evening. Somehow the partaking of the same food with him seemed so natural and intimate.

"_What __am __I __to __do?_" Connie whispered in agitation, flinging herself on the French-inspired comforter. She clutched a pillow in her arms and dug her chin into the soft pillow, as other thoughts of Mike entered her mind.

She thought time and distance apart from Mike would cease her yearnings. Instead all her feelings were brought to the surface again every time she saw him. Yet she couldn't become involved with him. He had someone in his life already. Not that it matter, for Connie would be leaving for LA once the trial ended and she dreaded feeling that empty void in her life again.

Clinging to the pillow, Connie turned over to lay on her back as she stared into the coffered paneled ceilings, hoping that sleep would soon overtake her.

It would be another restless, sleepless night.

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The next day, Mike had another tough day at the office. He had been busy all day, dealing with so-called 'emergencies' his people claimed only he could solve. Mike had not taken a single break.

Daytime had turned into evening and ADA Casey Novak was in his office now, wanting to accept the plea deal offered from the celebrity defendant who was accused of raping his date.

"At least with a plea bargain, he'll receive some jail time," Casey suggested.

"I don't think we should settle Casey, not when there's a possibility we could win this case!" insisted Mike, "The lab results confirmed that saliva from a bite mark matched up to his DNA. That along with the victim's testimony should be enough to convict."

"Mike, you're not seeing the whole picture. He's a ce-le-bri-ty and celebrities get off, even when there is a mountain of evidence against them," argued Casey," I'm telling you, the public -and jury- will be swayed by his celebrity status."

"So you want to accept the plea deal of 2 years plus 5 years probation?" asked Mike, "Come _on_, Casey! That is _not_ enough time to pay for what he did!"

"A certainty of _some_ time spent behind bars is better than taking the chance that the Jerk may be found innocent! How incompetent will you look as Bureau Chief then?" Casey challenged.

"We will _all_ look bad, Casey, if we accept this weak deal. I'm willing to take my chances with a jury. I think we can win this. "

"Not every case is winnable, Mike, even with irrefutable evidence. Too many variables can effect the outcome."

"You don't think I know that from personal experience?" Mike pointed out, "But your job is to eliminate all those variables and make the charges stick."

"I still think our best hope is to accept their offer." Casey was being stubborn.

Mike paced awhile, wishing he had his baseball bat to help him think. Replacing Casey so late in the game was an impossibility. Facing her now, he would approach the dilemma from a different angle.

"Casey, our office speaks for the victim, so let's do it this way. You go to the victim and her family and ask them if they are willing to accept the deal you propose or if they prefer a trial. I will go with whatever they decide."

Casey gave it a thought and nodded.

"Fine by me, Mike. I'll do it first thing tomorrow morning."

But Mike was no longer involved in the conversation as he was looking out his office window at the view of an empty cornered desk in the main office area. Connie had left to question Watson, and he had not seen her except for a glance of her in the late morning.

"Hel-_lo_? Mike?" Casey was leaning over, trying to re-capture his attention.

"Sorry, Casey," said Mike, clearing his mind, "it's been a long day, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

After Casey left, Mike glanced at his watch. Past dinnertime and he was the only one left in the office. He looked at his desk with the files and knew it would be another all nighter. Grabbing his mug, he walked down the hallway to fill his coffee cup.

The hallway was fairly dark due to the lateness of the evening. Mike made a turn in the hallway...

...and collided right into Connie as she rounded the corner from the break-room.

Connie gasped at the unexpected contact as the liquid from her coffee mug made big sloshing motions. Some of the liquid flew over the rim of her cup and splattered onto Mike.

"Hey!"

Mike pulled back automatically as he looked down at his now stained shirt. But when he looked back up, his heart leaped with gladness when he saw it was Connie.

"Oh…Mike!..I'm sorry… your shirt!...I had just come in and... I was headed to my desk..." Connie was rambling as she nervously took the napkin she had in her hand and proceeded to try and dab at the spilled spot on Mike's white shirt.

Obviously it did no good.

To Mike, their accidental meeting had happened so quickly. BAM! Suddenly she was in front of him, and now she was touching his upper torso, patting at a particular spot on his shirt. He watched her, unable to breathe.

After a few more tries at his shirt, Connie stopped mid-dab. Heat began to rise in her face with the realization that she was physically touching him. She subconsciously put her hands behind her back.

Unease and yearnings filled her mind at the intimate closeness of their stance in the narrow hallway.

"...I-I think I got some of the stain is out," she commented, wishing to disappear inside the office walls, "Again, I'm sorry, Mike."

He continued to stare her, making her feel even hotter.

"It's nothing, Connie," his voice sounded different, "I'll just go and rinse out the stain..."

"..Um...great.. and I'll just proceed back to my desk..." Connie pointed, as if Mike didn't know the direction of her desk.

Neither one moved, as they were held spellbound.

Mike was watching her, as if he were absorbing the details of her face.

Connie noted that he was now only a foot away from her, as a paralyzing warmth continued to flood her body. She inhaled quickly, the air feeling heavy in her lungs.

Both knew what would happen if they remained.

"Mike…" Connie was torn between indecision and wonderment, "We...cannot…"

Mike slowly shook his head.

"Don't say it, Connie."

Connie watched him with wide eyes. Awareness rippled through her as she stood between the cold, hard wall of the hallway and the warm-bodied man who kept her there.

Mike did not take his eyes off her as he reached over to close his hand over hers. Connie took a deep breath in at his touch, her cheeks flushed, until she realized he was merely taking the half-filled coffee mug from her hand to place it safely on the floor.

And just when she started feeling comfortable again, he took a step closer to her.

Their bodies were now almost touching.

Connie could not help herself as she reached out and gingerly touched his upper chest. Her throat felt dry as she gazed at her hand making contact with the hardness of his body, yet she could not stop.

To Mike, her hand was like a soft caress as she slid it down to feel the sturdiness of his ribs. He went still, disciplining himself with a tremor of effort that went throughout his body.

She reluctantly pulled her hand away when she realized what she had done.

"Mike…"Connie whispered her apology, "I didn't mean to...you have Carly after all..."

Mike had struggled with his feelings so long that his entire body ached for her.

"Connie," came his low, frustrated voice, "I have no one, but I wished I had you..."

The words needed to be said.

Mike knew he would never get this chance to get so close to her again. He now reached out and used the back of his hand to lightly touch her cheek, feeling its warm, velvety softness.

A current of pleasure went through Connie at the first contact to her cheek.

Mike barely seemed to breathe as his gaze lingered on her face and his hand sojourned down to hesitantly settle on her hip.

With his hand on a small part of her, he could feel the tremors that coursed through her body as well as his own. Pulling her closer, he ran his palm up the side of her body and Connie could feel a trail of sensation everywhere he touched. She closed her eyes for a moment, shivering, luxuriating in the feel of his touch. When she opened her eyes, all her hesitations had disappeared.

They were both silent, the heat of both their bodies mingling together.

The situation was getting out of hand.

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_Please __review._


	12. Chapter 12

Close quarters

Chapter 12

".._.I wished I had you..._"

When Mike confessed that, Connie felt dazed within the confines of the narrow hallway. It was as if a warm fog had descended on her and blurred the outside world.

Confusion and desire swirled inside her, making her feel helpless.

Her breath shortened as she gazed back at him. She noted how his eyes now dropped to her lips, making her mouth tremble.

"Mike… what are we doing?"

Mike wished he knew. He searched for the right words to say.

"Connie, I've imagined this moment a million times in my head…"

His words sent a shiver down her spine. She tried to control the bursting excitement at hearing those words. Looking into his fathomless eyes at close range, she could see glints of midnight coloring in his blue depths as she answered with heartfelt sincerity.

"I've ...had thoughts... of being with you, too..."

He let out a taut breath. Although he wanted so much to pull her completely in his arms, he held still waiting, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm much faster than normal.

"It's your decision to make, Connie."

She had an infinite number of reasons why she should leave, but only one why she should remain. Trying to maintain her composure, Connie could feel her heart thumping in a mad rhythm.

"Mike, I don't want to miss this chance with you…"

Her voice spoke of deep yearnings, and Mike could not believe what he was hearing. He watched in awe as her arms slid around his neck, her soft hands touching the nape of his neck. Mike felt his stomach do a flip.

There was an intimate pressure against his hip as he felt the heat of Connie's body closing in. His head was tilted down, gazing deep in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" He was giving her one last chance for a way out, "It will change everything between us..."

Swallowing hard, she looked right into his eyes as she spoke from her heart.

"Michael Cutter, I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life..."

He had been patient and understanding, but now his self -control seemed to snap. Mike leaned in and captured her mouth in a soft, open kiss. Her lips were so lush and warm.

His arms closed around her, solid muscle against her soft curves. Connie's heart pounded with a deafening roar as the kiss turned into a blaze of sensations.

Their breathing became intense as Mike's mouth became hot and insistent. Connie felt the heat of his fingertips as he brushed against her shoulder, to her throat until he reached the side of her cheek. All Connie knew was that she wanted him, she _needed_ him.

Mike was only aware of her soft mouth burning into his. She tasted sweet and luscious He could feel her body yielding more into his as his mouth continually teased and pressed.

Gradually his mouth softened into one deep, searching kiss that stole her breath away. She sighed in satisfaction, her body relaxed as she welcomed the tender exploration. Everywhere his hand caressed on her body felt warm and intimate.

Intoxicated by the softness of her lips, Mike held her in an unbreakable hold, while his tongue sought more of her. He knew the exact moment when her leg became entangled in his. He longed to kiss and love every part of her, to give her more pleasure than it was possible to bear.

Mike's senses were reeling. All he wanted right now was to feel Connie's sensual curves beneath his fingers.

_Connie's sensual curves_. Connie! Words suddenly sprung up from a hidden recess in his mind. Damn, what was he thinking? He had once stated to Jack that he would never get involved with a colleague, that it was totally unprofessional.

_So what was he doing here with Connie?_

He had to put an end to this! After all, they were in the hallway of a workplace, dammit!

He tore his mouth away from hers as they both stood close together with ragged breaths.

"Mike?" Connie questioned, her eyes wide, confused that they had stopped, "What is it?"

His gaze moved from her seductive lips, to her flushed cheeks, to her beautiful brown eyes. Connie could see the sensual heat in his gaze.

"Connie," he answered honestly, through clenched teeth, "I…I don't trust myself with you any longer. We have to stop while I am still able…"

Connie knew exactly what he meant, but her body ached for his embrace as she now felt the coolness of the hallway.

"Yes, of course," Connie ruefully stated, still trying to catch her breath, "but...I wished it weren't so."

Connie's back had been against the wall as Mike stood hanging over her. He groaned and hung his head low as his hands formed into a fist before he stepped away.

When he looked up at Connie again, his pulse was still beating rapidly as he noted her lush-filled kissed lips. The way he looked at her made her legs quiver.

They looked at one another, their eyes still intense with unspent passion.

_So __now __I __know_, thought Connie, who could still feel the warm pressure of his lips. And it was even more thrilling and sensual than she could have ever imagined.

.

.

It was getting very late and they still had the case to discuss.

Mike's office offered them more space to spread out their work. However, it was difficult to concentrate when they had just shared their first intimate embrace.

Their minds were still in a hot, intoxicating haze, but the case was moving quickly and they needed to discuss it or fall behind.

Although they were the only two in the office, they could not help continually exchanging private smiles.

Mike was sitting behind his desk again. It was the first time Connie had been in his new office. She wanted to bask in his surroundings before resuming their work.

Anything that was part of Mike's life, she wanted to savor.

In contrast to his old workplace, his new office was user-friendly, all done in warm tones of beige and rust. A retro trapezoid-shaped lampshade was positioned in one corner of his room, consisting of actual curtains decorated in coordinating taupe patterns. Against one wall hung a large picture displaying flags from around the world. There were smatterings of legal journals, but nothing else to indicate this was a law office.

She sighed and then sat back in her chair, with a light smile on her face.

"_What_?" Mike asked with a playful smile on his face, wondering what her lovely mind was thinking.

She tilted her head as she grinned, "I was just thinking about…your office, Mike,…it's not like an office at all; it's so cozy….like being in a room in a house."

He smiled that kind of smile that showed his dimples, which made Connie want to swoon, "There _is_ a bit of a 'home sweet home_',_ to this office, isn't there? Definitely not my choice in interior designs for a Bureau Chief's office!"

"Now, don't get me wrong, Mike," said Connie, "This new office of yours is attractively decorated, but I _do_ miss the little touches that made your old office _oh- so- very- special…_"

By the lilt in her voice, it was obvious she was being playful.

"Really now? My previous office contained _little_ touches?" he said, attempting to hide his smile, "Do tell."

"Oh, indeed! All those special touches that were so _you_...that cheap steel bar frame to hang your jacket with the additional tattered shoe boxes on top, the diorama of the staircase leading to absolutely nowhere, the door-sized whiteboard that was too small to write anything, and let's not forget the ax embedded in a random piece of concrete on top of the file cabinet!"

Mike shook his head, a smile lurking at one corner of his mouth, as he responded.

"Hey! I'll have you know that ax-in-concrete was evidence in a major win for me on my first case! As for the rest...well, what you've stated is true.."

"Which part was true?" Connie asked lightly.

"...That not everyone is as creative in their interior design selections as _moi_." He proudly pointed both his index fingers at himself.

Connie laughed, wishing moments like this would last forever.

She took one more glance around, "…and _what_? They wouldn't allow you to display your infamous softball and bat?Such a shame, really. For to me, they always signified that you were having a major breakthrough regarding a case."

Mike smiled at her interpretation of his baseball props.

"The bat I purposely left behind- it was too tempting to use on my attorneys. But the baseball... _now __the __baseball _is a whole different matter,..."

He was grinning as he reached into his top right-hand drawer and produced the ball, tossing and catching it in the air, "…this baseball here is still used for clarity. However, if I am being honest here, I can clearly see everything I desire, without tossing the baseball once!"

His gaze was teasing, flirtatious, and with a rush of delight, Connie had to admit that she cherished the moments when they were not talking about cases, when they were just being themselves.

The problem was, his charm made him so appealing. Connie smiled back as Mike's disarming blue eyes watched her. Her entire body seemed to pulse in response to his gaze.

But despite the night being so magical, she needed to view Mike Cutter as merely her temporary boss.

If only she could.

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_(Abby: I hope I didn't disappoint?)_

_(Thanks to 25th day for the screencaps so that I was able to describe Mike's new office)_

_Please __review_


	13. Chapter 13

His romantic attentions

Chapter 13

As they sat in the intimacy of his office, Mike was now certain that Connie was as aware of him as much as he had always been aware of her. And he could not be happier.

"So do you want to talk about what just happened between us?" Mike's question hung in the air.

Connie knew exactly what he was referring to, which was why her cheeks turned crimson. Their private encounter was still so new...and it felt so wonderful.

She needed time to absorb and analyze the change between them.

"I never kiss and talk, Mike." Connie breezily responded, although her pulse was racing.

Mike nodded, as he slightly leaned forward.

"Fair enough...but let me go on record to say, Connie, I don't regret that kiss, nor will I ever."

"Oh..." Connie embarrassingly looked down, trying to still her trembling body.

"And before you feel an emotion such as guilt," continued Mike, "I just want you to know that I had already put an end to my relationship with Carly."

She nodded slowly, but inside her heart did a leap of joy. He then looked at her with a slight grin as he gallantly made an announcement.

"So, you see, Miss Rubirosa, you are now, as you had been in the past, the sole recipient of my romantic attentions."

The phrase "romantic attentions" caught her totally by surprise.

It sounded so sweet and old-fashioned and he had even intimated that he had feelings for her previously. He openly surveyed her with a look of masculine interest that she realized was becoming familiar to her, and she liked it. But she was determined not to be the only embarrassed one.

"Well, Mike, quite a compliment, coming from someone so irresistibly handsome!"

Now it was Mike's turn to blush, but he was up to the bantering.

"There are definitely times **_I_** can't believe I am this handsome'!" he teased with a wink.

Connie was glad to be on lighter ground as she purposely raised an eyebrow, "Oh _my_, did I say 'handsome'? I meant 'incorrigible'."

A shared smile caused a mixture of delight and heat to ripple between them.

But the hour was getting late and they had business matters to discuss.

"Mike, this has all been entertaining, but there is my case..."

He agreed.

"Yes. We need to get down to work...before you think of a word worst than 'incorrigible' to describe me!"

Connie tried her best to hide a grin.

"Too late, Mike. I have already thought of that worst word to describe you! But about the Watson case..."

It was back to work.

Earlier that day Connie had wanted to discuss the the case, but it had fallen by the wayside, what with all that had occurred between them.

Connie opened her file.

"Okay, so… I went to visit Watson at his trailer today...and I have to say, Mike…after talking with him at length, my conclusion is that I was quite impressed with him."

Mike looked a bit surprised, "You were impressed with a pedophile?"

"_Alleged_ pedophile, Mike," she corrected, "Watson adamantly claimed innocence, and...I-I tend to believe him. With all the mounting evidence against him, you would think he would at least accede to some of the charges. But no. The only thing he admitted to was that he had planned to meet up with the teenager, Wendy Smith."

"_True,_" agreed Mike, "AND don't forget that she met him _on __the __day __she __disappeared_."

"But he claimed it was to convince her to stop meeting anonymous people in chat rooms. I found his explanation credible being that his job at the center is to help troubled teens," Connie reasoned, "and, besides, would he leave behind such damning evidence on his computer? He would have erased anything that incriminated him and he didn't because _he thought he was helping someone._"

"What about the pornography found on his computer?" Mike pointed out.

"That too. Wouldn't he have erased it?"

"Perhaps," said Mike, "But it begs the question, why did he have it on his computer in the first place? It points more to his guilt."

Connie shrugged, "With what people know about the Internet these days, anyone could have downloaded those pictures to make him look guilty."

Mike sighed.

"I suppose you are also going to give an explanation regarding our strongest piece of evidence—that we found the victim's pink cell phone under his bed? Wendy Smith had it in her possession up to the day she went missing."

"It could have been easily planted, especially since he keeps his trailer door unlocked…And if I can explain away everything, imagine what the defense will do with the evidence we present."

"Sounds like you weren't happy with the investigation, Connie."

She did have a look of doubt.

"Well, like you've said before, Mike," she specified, "SVU and the DA's office have lately been overwhelmed with cases."

"So are you saying you do not want to move forward with the case?"

"I don't know," stated Connie, shaking her head, "If you add in the fact that everyone only had _good_ things to say about him, this whole case could be simply a rush to judgement."

Mike frustratingly placed his hand on his forehead, as if he had a headache.

"Connie, this was not the conclusion I had expected from you when I assigned you this case. Look, from what I have heard, Watson is a rather attractive looking man, that he didn't look like a creepy pedophile. I hope you didn't take that into account when drawing your conclusions."

There seemed to be a slight sharpness in his tone, almost as if he were lecturing her. Connie did not like how he was basically accusing her of throwing the case away, based simply on a defendant's appearance.

She would never do that.

Connie struggled for composure, her body tensing. Her fingers gripped the file she had been holding so hard that the folder became crimped on one edge.

Her job was to look at the case objectively, and that was exactly what she was doing.

"As _you_ know, Mike," she responded, a bit coolly, "Cases usually aren't so cut and dry. They don't follow a straight line, but veer into different tangents..."

"There are tangents," Mike theorized, "and then there are whole different unconnected universes. You may be over-reaching here, Connie."

Connie tilted her head as she looked questionably at him, "This new promotion of yours has really pushed you against the wall, hasn't it?... is a conviction so important to you now that you would send an innocent guy to prison?"

"No," said Mike, slightly offended at her accusation of how he viewed the legal system, "but I would happily send a _pedophile_ to prison. Connie, I know California is all about touchy- feely, with all that tranquility and meditation stuff, but here, we base our cases on facts! Your basis for his innocence is based solely on your intuition."

A wave of rising annoyance nearly choked her. Her attraction for Mike did not override the thought that he had a talent for rousing her temper more easily than anyone she had ever known.

"Is _that_ why you told Jonah Dekker that I am a loose cannon?" she accused him, "because that is what he told me you said!"

She had told herself that she was never going bring up that remark, that it would make her seem petty and overly sensitive if she did. But admittedly, it _did_ hurt her when her boss in LA used that phrase to describe her.

Mike was very still, reading the stiffness of her posture, the way she withheld herself from him. His voice was without inflection as he responded to her outrageous statement.

"I never said that to him." defended Mike, "Joe and I had gone out to lunch one time and he mentioned that you had been undermining him on a case and all I said was that you have been known to do that. At the time I did not even know what he had meant by undermine, but I assume you were sticking with your principles, something for which I have always admired in you!"

Connie was not going to let him twist his words around by trying to convince her that he liked that quality about her. After all, he had pointedly made that comment at a time when Dekker was complaining about her.

"Don't try to put that attorney-spin on it, Mike," snapped Connie, "After all, I'm an attorney too, so I know how to play that game! If he said you called me a loose cannon, then you must have said something to imply that I don't play by the rules."

"Connie, I am telling you, what I meant was—"

His Blackberry buzzed.

Looking relieved at the interruption, Mike picked it up and read the screen. Connie could tell from the way his eyebrows furrowed that he did not like what he was reading.

His expression showed that he was no longer thinking of their argument. Connie lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

"Is this regarding my case?" Connie asked.

Mike nodded, "Our discussion has now become moot. The case just took a major blow. Our victim, Wendy Smith, was found murdered and buried in a shallow grave out in a opened field. And to add to the confusion, John Watson has also disappeared, along with his belongings. I guess that shoots your 'he's-just-a-nice-teen-counselor' theory to hell."

The news hit Connie hard as she dropped her mouth.

The night had not turned out how she had expected _at all_.

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_Please __review._


	14. Chapter 14

A True Believer

_(O-kay.. did you see the SVU episode "True Believers"? I could not **believe** what they did to the character of Michael Cutter. Where was his brashness, his tenacity, his drive to win? I was so mad with their portrayal of him, I had to incorporate the case in my story. __I tried to explain away his court presence as him being heartbroken over his argument with Connie.)_

Chapter 14

Mike Cutter was overwhelmed.

A few days ago he had decided to take on a high profile case as lead prosecutor regarding the rape of a white female college student by a black suspect. This was in addition to all the cases he was overseeing.

This was a highly unusual move for a Bureau Chief. But the attorney for the defense was the powerful, high-profile defense attorney Bayard Ellis, a strong advocate for civil liberties. When he heard Ellis was the opposing counsel, he insisted on taking the case himself.

Mike looked forward to matching wits with Ellis in the courtroom.

Then things started to go awry.

The "slam-dunk" case turned out to be a challenge for all involved. The evidence gathering was questionable and the rape victim, Sarah Walsh, was not as reliable as they had originally thought.

As the case dragged on, tensions ran high, even on the same side, between the SVU detectives and the DA's office.

Adding to the conflict was the contemptible strategy of defense lawyer Ellis. He was not only accusing the SVU investigators of corruption, he was contending racial bias. That, along with the victim's shaky testimony, created reasonable doubt.

And a real headache for Mike.

And then he had that confrontation with Connie over her own case. With that, his zeal to go up against Ellis, his zest for the truth, had faltered. He had lost his focus, his drive.

So his closing argument was less than satisfactory.

Mike had presented the blandest and most obvious of summations, accusing the defense of putting the victim on trial when it was the defendant's actions that actually mattered.

The usual enthusiastic verve and veracity that he usually brought to his closing statements had all but disappeared.

The jurors almost looked bored throughout his final statements.

He wasn't too surprised, then, when the jury reached a verdict of not guilty on criminal possession of a weapon and also not guilty on the charge of rape.

Still, the predictable loss was tough for Mike to accept.

Yet that wasn't the thing most on his mind.

.

The elevator doors opened and Mike was in deep thought as he walked down the hallway back towards his office after the trial. Everyone in the office had heard the verdict come down, so they knew better than to comment. As he passed them down the aisle, they pretended to be immersed in their own work.

Little did they realize that his lost expression was not due to the Walsh case, but on his earlier argument with Connie.

.

_It had been so unexpected. The night before Mike and Connie had been locked in a disagreement as to the innocence or guilt of Watson._

_Then came the tragic news that teenager Wendy Smith was found murdered and their only suspect, John Watson, was on the run. _

_Like the flame of a candle at the end of the night, the bright glow of their kiss had been blown out._

"_I should go," stated Connie, after the call, as she stood up, "I...have things I need to get done by tomorrow."_

_Mike looked distraught, "Wait, Connie…"_

_But Connie felt there was nothing else to say, nothing that could be done to overcome the damage. Any additional words would just make the situation between them worse._

_Despite the twist in the case, she could not forget how he had doubts regarding her handling of the case._

"_No, Mike," she said firmly, "...the case is over..."_

_Her tone seemed to imply that they were over._

_The air was charged with a peculiar pained silence. Mike's throat clenched too tightly for words at this moment. But perhaps it was better he didn't say anything, for he could see that Connie had already made up her mind and he was not going to beg her to stay. He had his pride, after all._

_ Plus, he could not handle another rejection. _

"_Do what you have to do, then," Mike said stiffly, "I'll expect a written report from you on my desk tomorrow."_

_"Fine, Mike."_

___Mike did not look up as he pretended to shuffle papers around. _Connie bit back her lip as she watched his disinterest. __

_"Goodnight, Connie."_

_More papers being shuffled around._

_"Night, Mike."_

__She turned to leave.__

__He kept his head down. ____Soon enough, t_he familiar clacking of her heels could be heard going down the long hallway of the office. He tried to resume his reading, but the words on the paper read like Chinese characters to him. He did not look up again until he heard the elevator doors closing._

_He ached for her already._

_._

Back to the present, Detective Olivia Benson was waiting when he walked in his office. He heaved a deep breath. This would not be a pleasant conversation. She was probably here to discuss their defeat in court. He merely nodded as he put his briefcase on the desk.

"So... we lost," Olivia stated in her usual brisk manner.

Mike pretended to be occupied with unpacking the papers from his briefcase.

"Seems that Ellis was a formidable opponent after all," Mike replied, wishing he were anywhere but here. He just wanted to alone with this thoughts.

But Olivia was just getting started.

"Mike, we let a _rapist_ go free!" Olivia sounded emotional, "I've never seen you prosecute a case before today, but surely _that_ wasn't your finest work! _What the hell kind of closing argument was that_?"

Mike paused in the middle of what he was doing as he peered at Olivia, frustration showing on his face.

"_Detective_, need I remind you that I did the best I could with what you presented to me? You gave Ellis reason to bury me in legal paperwork due to sloppy police work...I had to deal with a questionable ID lineup, contradictory detective accounts on the witness stand, _and_ an uncooperative, lying witness! So, do NOT go pointing the blaming finger at other people, unless one of them is pointing directly back at you and your detectives!"

If Mike thought this would faze Olivia, he was wrong.

Olivia leaned towards him to make a point, "_That_ was brilliant..._ now _the strong emotions come pouring out from you! Where was that fiery delivery in the courtroom, Mike? Where was that indignant passion when we needed to put that guilty bastard away?"

It was a long day. Mike didn't have the will to argue any longer. Or maybe it was because he knew she had spoken the truth.

"We are done here, detective."

.

.

Later that night in her hotel room, Connie had never known a silence as absolute as the one that occupied her as she lay in her huge bed. Gathering the sheet around her in great bunches, she tried to retain some semblance of warmth, but her body still felt a chill. She felt even colder as she stared out in the darkness of the room.

She would complete her report, and after that, the case would no longer be hers.

She would start packing tomorrow morning.

Sighing, her mind then drifted to musings of Mike. She now tried to rid her mind of the wondrous feelings that had crowded her mind earlier that evening…thoughts of Mike's intense blue eyes, the low timbre of his voice, the taste of his mouth, the misty heat of his skin as he held her passionately.

It was all so breathtaking incredible...until the argument.

"_Mike_," she whispered out-loud to no one, her heart breaking with every breath she took.

Connie experienced a sense of loss so profound that it seemed as if her heart had been amputated. She rolled over to bury her face in the pillow as tears of loneliness fell from her face.

.

.

The night wind was bitingly cold, but it was a welcome shock as Mike walked out of the DA's office into the night. He shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets and strode without his usual purpose or sense of direction.

It did not matter where he went, or how far; all that matter was that he did not stop.

Connie will probably finish writing her report tomorrow and then leave for LA. He had no idea if he would even see her before she left. He hated to think that the woman he desired was so upset with him that she did not want to see him again.

To not see her, talk to her, touch her again brought him a sense of melacholy that made it difficult for him to think rationally. He wondered would he ever recover, would he ever be the same. He hoped he wasn't losing his enthusiasm and conviction as a prosecutor, as a Bureau Chief...as a person.

Swearing quietly to himself, Mike increased his pace, walking faster and farther away from his work.

Tomorrow he would bury himself once more in his work and somehow he would find a way to remove Connie from his heart and mind.

But he already knew that was an impossibility.

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**_Please review or comment!_**


	15. Chapter 15

The visit

Chapter 15

After another night of restless sleep, Connie came to the conclusion that she was not quite finished with the case. There were some loose ends that needed clearing up.

The next morning she entered the rather pedestrian office of Dr. Melinda Warner, the medical examiner. Connie was grateful that they were in a room that looked more like the Principal's office than anything having to do with dead corpses.

Melinda was dressed in her usual scrubs, writing a report from behind her desk. She greeted Connie as she walked in and gestured for her to sit.

"Miss Rubirosa, I'm not exactly sure why we need to talk privately like this," Dr. Warner said, "I've already told Olivia…er -Detective Benson- everything. My report is filed upstairs with her."

"I am here in an unofficial capacity, Dr Warner. I just wanted to know if it was a positive identification for Wendy Smith. After all, it's been quite a few days," added Connie morbidly.

"No doubt it was Wendy," Dr Warner stated, "Though there was some decay, the skeleton was intact, as well as the hair. A positive identification had been made by the mother, being that the father was out of town on business. I even took it further. Wendy Smith had broken her hand when she was 10 at the metacarpal bone below what you would call the ring finger. That healed injury showed up on x-ray. In short, there was no doubt regarding identification."

"Had she been sexually assaulted?"

"From what I gather at this point, no, but we are running more tests," Dr. Warner stood up slowly "I'm sorry, Connie, I'd wished I could tell you more, but it's pretty preliminary at this point and right now, I have another body I need to view. Will there be anything else you need?"

Connie stood up also.

"What about any personal effects found on her body?" Connie asked.

Dr. Warner reached behind her and produced a tray containing a worn wallet encased in a plastic bag.

"This was the only thing found in the girl's pants pocket. Wear gloves when you inspect this. I'll be sending this up, along with her articles of clothing, to SVU in an hour."

With gloves in place, Connie combed though the entire wallet, which contained many personal pictures and a couple of business cards.

Connie haphazardly picked up one business card and caught her breath.

It was a business card that read: _Youth __Teen __Center._On the back was a handwritten message:

_MH, __G__TyleR, __SC._

The writing looked vaguely like Watson's, for she had seen his signature on the bail bond, but she couldn't be sure. She took out a scrap paper and pen and jotted down the letters before returning the card to the wallet.

Connie walked slowly down the hallway, trying to absorb what she knew of the case.

Yet even as she tried to decipher the case, her mind kept wandering back to her discussion that ended badly with Mike last night in his office. At the time, she just thought he was being stubborn, but in the light of day, she could see that she was being just as adamant with her beliefs.

And despite being upset with his inflexability, she missed him like crazy.

.

.

Mike had been in his office fielding calls all morning. The John Watson case had become high profile, what with the discovery of the young teen's body and the disappearance of the main suspect.

With the two celebrity cases, the Sarah Welsh rape case, and this Wendy Smith murder, it has been a nightmare for the Bureau Chief.

But he knew the key to his job was handling each case separately. One by one.

The Sarah Walsh case was done and over with. He set the case folder aside to be filed away later.

He looked at the next file on his desk. Might as well rid his mind of the John Watson case, too. At least for the time being. It had become a full- blown investigation for the SVU once again.

The detectives have been working nonstop, trying to find any leads in finding Watson. New charges would have to be filed at a later date once the detectives locate John Watson.

But mentally, he couldn't put it in the "to be filed away" pile, for this was his one connection to Connie.

For a very brief time, he thought, things had been the best it ever had between them. He and Connie were sharing meals together, bantering back and forth and working together once more. Then there was their intimate embrace, which told him the feelings were not one-side. But now...

He hated what happened last night. It had started out so promising. Even now, every time he walked down the hallway to get his coffee, his eyes would linger at the spot where they had kissed. But that seemed a lifetime ago.

The last thing Mike remembered about their quarrel was the disheartening look Connie had in her eyes as they separated that night. And Mike had not seen her since.

His door had been left opened, but the female that stood at the doorway gave it a couple of light raps to get Mike's attention.

Mike looked up and his mouth dropped slightly at the sight of the new visitor.

"Carly." he simply stated.

"Hello, Mike," Carly's lips were trembling slightly as she hesitated, "Is this a bad time?"

She stood at the doorway, an unsure smile plastered to her face. He noticed her short, sassy hair seemed slightly uncontrolled as well as her entire appearance seemed a little disheveled.

Of course, Mike was overwhelmed with work, but he couldn't very well just kick Carly back out in the cold _again_. Without really addressing whether or not he had the time, he motioned for her to sit. She came over and took a seat, waiting for him to speak first.

"Uh, is there something I can help you with, Carly?" He tried to sound as professional as he could.

"I must look pathetic, right?" Carly sadly stated, "which is pretty shocking when you considered that I was always the put-together type of gal, the one who always ran the show."

With all that Mike had to deal with right now, he wasn't sure if he wanted to deal with _this_ uncomfortable situation.

"Carly," said Mike, as gently as possible, "I hope you're not here…to... rehash our time together…"

Carly shook her head and looked out the window, her eyes slightly glazed.

"No," she said looking back at him, " I realize my pain is of my own doing. I had planned on never seeing you again. But you know, we work in the same building and all, and the gossip mill never stops. I know you had assign Connie on a case that, for now, has been dismissed..."

"And this concerns you..._how_?" asked Mike impatiently. Suddenly all his piled up work seemed so important.

Carly didn't skip a beat, "It's lunchtime now, Mike. It's a nice day. I'm here for you, if you want to talk."

"Don't take this wrong way, Carly...it's just I don't want to lead you on..."

Carly guffawed, "I'm a big girl, Mike, I know the score. Don't play the hero crap with me."

"So then, what do you want from me? What are you trying to say, Carly?" Mike asked.

Carly leaned in, "Mike, don't you get it? You and I are cut from the same cloth. We're scrappy overachievers who had to fight our way to get where we are now. We got by on our street smarts. I _get_ you, unlike a certain Ivy League graduate who was handed a silver spoon all her life!"

Mike tried to control his frustrations towards Carly.

"Really, Carly? Was that _really_ necessary to say?"

Mike looked down at his stack of files, rearranging them on his desk, pretending to be focusing on something else before he looked back at her, "Let's just forget that you ever came by to visit. I'm sorry, but as you can see, my caseload work is rather full."

Carly stood. Perhaps she had visited him too soon.

"Mike, I am here as a friend," Carly stated evenly although she wanted to shake him, "I am here for you. But even **_I_** have my breaking point, so don't think I will _always_ be available!"

She abruptly stood up, wanting to make a dramatic exit. When she turned to leave, she pictured Mike watching her every move, perhaps working up the nerve to call out her name. God, let him call her back!

She strode with purpose towards the office door to leave...and almost collided with Connie, who was entering.

At first Carly looked startled at Connie's presence, but it quickly turned to a look of disdain.

"Connie," she stated, her eyes slightly narrowing, "I'm surprised to see you here. I heard your case was dismissed, removed...terminated."

Connie did not owe Carly an explanation.

"...And I can see you are on your way out," Connie said coolly.

Carly looked over at Mike to see his reaction at seeing Rubirosa.

She was not happy with what she observed. Carly hated how earlier Mike had merely gestured for Carly to be seated, while he remained seated.

Yet upon Connie's entrance, he had risen slowly from his seat, looking at that hussy with yearning in his eyes. God, he was so easy to read!

Carly now focused on Connie. That hussy had returned his gaze with a look that any woman recognized as meaning _I missed you every hour of every day_.

Anger seeped into Carly's mind, as she walked past Connie, her head held high.

But Connie wasn't even aware of Carly's sudden exit.

She only had eyes for Mike.

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_Please __review._


	16. Chapter 16

A mystery

Chapter 16

Carly was feeling vengeful.

The long walk back to her office allowed hurt and jealousy to fester inside of her.

Last week Carly was on top of the world. She had a comfortable job, a nice apartment and most importantly, Mike's attention. Perhaps, not his _affections_, but she was working on that.

Then that B*tch hussy ruined everything.

Once Carly sat at her small desk at the county clerk's office, she placed a long distance call to Los Angeles. It took a while for the operator to transfer her call.

"Dekker, here." a voice impatiently clicked on, bringing Carly out of her revelry.

"Yes, Mr. Dekker, this is Carly Mitchell from the New York county clerk's office," Carly began.

Her name was of no importance to Joe Dekker.

"And what is this in reference to, Miss…Mitchell? I have a very busy agenda today."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd want to hear what I have to say, Mr. Dekker, "Carly assured him, "This is regarding your DDA Connie Rubisosa, now residing here in New York."

There was a slight pause, as if Dekker were absorbing her words.

"No, you mean, she's _visiting_ New York City," corrected Joe Dekker.

He's playing right into my hands, thought Connie.

"So you say, Mr. Dekker, but from the way it looks over here, she is working towards permanent residency back here in New York City... what with her taking on an important case and all..."

"_What?_ Explain yourself," insisted Dekker curtly.

She had his full attention now. Slowly and methodically she updated him on Connie becoming the lead prosecutor on the Watson case.

"...and if you don't act quickly,Mr. Dekker, your Miss Rubirosa may decide to extend her stay here... indefinitely. After all, she had that case assigned to her by reconnecting with her former boss..."

Dekker was obviously seething as he interrupted Carly.

"_With Cutte_r? _God __damn__it_! She _can't_ do that! Rubirosa has made a commitment _here_!" Joe Dekker's usual soft voice held conviction, "As her present boss, **_I_** will make it clear as to where her loyalties should lie!"

"I'm glad you see it that way, Mr. Dekker," smiled Carly, quite pleased.

.

.

Originally Connie was going to just write up her findings and leave it on Mike's desk. But seeing him through the window of his office, sent her heart to pounding wildly.

She tried to deny it, but she needed to see him, to be in the same room as him. As she got up, her legs seemed to walk towards his office of its own accord. She had not even noticed Carly was in the room until she almost bumped into Carly at the doorway of Mike's office.

After Carly's abrupt departure, Connie remained at his doorway, not sure if he wanted her to come in. After all, they did have a rather heated argument regarding the Watson case last night.

They stood uncomfortably facing each other.

Mike remained standing, thinking how he was going to explain away Carly.

"Connie, what you just witnessed with Carly..." began Mike.

Connie did wonder as to the presence of Carly, but she was determined not to let anything get in the way of her ending this stalemate between them. So at his mention of Carly, she just waved her hand in the air as she walked in and stood beside the visitor's chair.

"Mike, let's not talk of that. Your situation with her does not concern me."

Mike took a deep breath. All he ask for is that Connie stay.

"Alright, then... let me say this instead, then...I feel bad on how we ended last night," Mike admitted.

Connie was taken back slightly. Was Mike sounding apologetic?

She felt her lips trembling, "Really?"

"Let's just say..." began Mike, "that since our disagreement, I've felt _slightly_ bad... and _utterly _tormented and torn apart_._"

There was a shadow of a smile from him, which made goose bumps rise on Connie's skin. His blue eyes then turned dark and solemn.

"I'm so sorry what happened, Connie."

A true apology, at last. Connie felt her heart soften.

"I am, too, Mike... So...are we good?"

"It depends..." Mike stated.

So this wasn't over yet.

"Oh? On what?"

Their challenged gazes locked.

It took all her strength to keep breathing as she tried to stay the frantic beating of her heart.

"...on whether you, Connie, are going to continue acting like _a __loose __cannon _or not._._."

His manner was playful, and there was some other emotion hidden underneath—a quality of restrained gladness- that made her nerves tingle with happiness.

"Did I hear you right, Mike? Did you refer to _me_ as a loose cannon? Try looking up the phrase _loose __cannon_ in the dictionary and I believe we should see _your_ _picture_ plastered right next to it!"

A big smile spread across Mike's face, "Me? A loose cannon? According to whom? The world? Hey, I can't help it if I am surrounded by people with misguided opinions!"

She smiled back.

Despite just seeing him yesterday, Connie could not believe how handsome he looked today despite working late last night and being swamped with work this morning. He looked New York- groomed, with his pressed light blue shirt, blue silk tie arranged in a simple, perfect knot, and his sleeves rolled up, showing he was ready to work.

"Connie," Mike's voice sounded cordial as he held out an opened hand towards the chair, "please, have a seat. I'm just so glad you're here."

Mike waited until Connie sat before he seated himself. His eyes sparkled as he watched her from across his desk.

Connie could not help the hot and cold chills that chased through her body, the burning color that rose to her cheeks as she sat across from him. She hoped Mike could not discern any of this as she forced herself to stare directly into his extraordinary eyes.

She reminded herself to keep it professional.

"Mike, I had gone to see the coroner and I think I have further evidence that John Watson's intentions towards Wendy Smith were to help her."

Mike should have known Connie would not let go of the case, and he could not have been more pleased with that fact.

He had already been made aware of the business card found in Wendy Smith wallet. He reached for the top file on his left, opened it, shuffled some papers around, and held up the business card with the familiar letters:

_MH, __GTyleR, __SC._

"You mean this?" Mike asked, "SVU have been unable to determine whether it is an address or names of people, or some other code entirely."

"I was stumped for awhile, too," explained Connie, regarding the letters written on the card, "and then I remembered that I had visited John Watson in an enclosed trailer park. He had picked a trailer park because, he told me, he may need to move at a moment's notice. So I started thinking, 'What if _MH_ stood for _Mobile __Home_?"

Mike thought that was brilliant.

"That's genius. Then perhaps "G" is the lot location in a mobile home park on Tyler street!" Mike was getting excited as he started to type in the information on his Blackberry.

"Don't even bother," sighed Connie, "I've already tried that. It didn't pan out."

"Well," said Mike, looking disappointed, as he sat back again, "SVU already looked into the possibility of it being an address but there is no "G" Tyler Road or Street in South Carolina."

Connie shook her head.

"No, Mike. Watson would want to hide nearby, be close to the teenagers he helps. He would probably be staying somewhere in New York. So it got me thinking -what if _'SC'_ didn't stand for South Carolina, but an area in New York? The first thing that came to mind was that _S.C_. might mean 'Suffolk County'."

Mike sat back in his office chair, bouncing a bit in it, as he clasped his hands and gave his full attention to Connie, watching her with those keen blue eyes of his.

"A strong possibility, Connie. So that brings us back to _GTyleR._"

Connie looked perplexed, "And that's where we hit a dead end…"

Mike was in deep thought as he stared at _GTyleR. _He started tapping the card on his desk, not even realizing he was doing it as he tried to decode that one line. They were _so_ close to decoding the address!

Of course, it was hard to concentrate on the coded words with Connie seated just across the desk. Connie, with her lovely face, her soft curves…

_Her __soft __curves_. He leaned forward. The thought made him look at the business card again.

But, of course; it was so simple!

Thanks to Connie, he now knew the entire address.

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_Please review_


	17. Chapter 17

Mystery solved

Chapter 17

The letters on the back of Watson's business card seemed at a glance, quite a puzzlement.

_MH,__GTyleR, __SC._

Connie had managed to partially narrow it down to some mobile home address in Suffolk County.

Mike thought he held the key to solving more of the address.

"Mike, what is it?"

He handed the card to her so she could see the original writings.

"Connie, look at the letters again, this time focusing on the letter "G". Watson does not have good penmanship, but still, the edges on that letter 'G' is slightly more rounded than it should be. If he had been consistent in his printing, it would have been a neat, sharp 'G' like the other letters."

Connie stared at the card before looking back at him, "So, Sherlock Cutter, what are you trying to say?"

Mike couldn't hide his grin, "If this is an address, which I am willing to bet it is, maybe that is a number, and not a letter."

Connie again looked at the soft edges of the "G".

"You mean, like the number 'six'?"

"Precisely!"

Connie looked at the card again.

"You're right.. it's so obvious now! How were you able to figure that out?"

No way in hell was Mike going to tell her he thought of the soft edges of the letter by thinking of her soft curves.

"How did I get the idea? I just kept throwing around theories in my head until one stuck!"

Connie smiled, "In other words, you haven't the foggiest where your theory came from."

"Truly a stab in the dark!" exclaimed Mike, relieved to get out of the explanation, "My ideas come like lightening. Suddenly one flash and it's gone!"

"Okay, okay," laughed Connie, "I've always believed that is how your mind worked! So let's just leave it at that and get back to the case!"

"Fine by me!"

With high expectations, Mike typed in '6 Tyler Road.' His hopes fell. Nothing. Then he tried '6 Tyler _Street_'. No results. He then attempted the same address with '_Avenue_' at the end. It came up empty for any address in Suffolk County.

"I was so sure..." he murmured, half to himself.

A disappointment, indeed. Connie looked at the card again, wondering why the "R" in "Tyler" was capitalized. Her eyes became wide as realization set in. She slid the card back to him.

"Mike, look at the middle line again," she was rushing her words, "the 'R' is capitalized, meaning it could be the start of a new word, so instead of 'Tyler', maybe it is 'Tyle' and 'R' is short for 'Road'!"

Mike punched in the address '6 Tyle Road' on his Blackberry. A huge smile appeared on his face as he viewed the display screen.

"... And ..._Bingo_! We have a winner! A mobile park address!"

Connie leaned forward to also view the location in his Blackberry.

Their heads were so close that it slightly unnerved Mike. He had fixed his eyes on the Blackberry, but his thoughts meandered to images of reaching out and touching the softness of her once again.

Connie also felt stirred from the closeness. Filled with wistfulness, she leaned back to avoid further uneasiness. She tried to bank the intensified feelings as she attempted to fill the air with words.

"There is a good chance that Watson is hiding out there as a safe haven...or at the very least, it will offer us another clue. We should check it out."

"_We_?" Mike asked teasingly.

His gaze swept over her with a disconcerting thoroughness, bringing back those yearning feelings.

It was so hard to look steadily into his blue eyes.

"…Oh! Did I say 'we'? The detectives, I mean…" Connie re-stated.

Mike openly grinned at her.

"I'll make the call now," he announced. Connie relaxed and sat back as he made the call and explained their theory to the detectives, adding that Watson may not be a suspect, but a victim as well.

With the call completed, Mike focused his attention back to Connie.

"Well, seems as though we make quite a team after all, " Mike commented, pleased with how the early afternoon was turning out.

"Oh, so we are a _team_ now, are we?" Connie jested.

Mike leaned forward, "Connie, we have always been a team. Always. For better or worse."

Somehow what he said seemed to have a double meaning. It caused a pang of yearning in her heart. _I need to keep this_ _focused on the work,_ she reminded herself.

But instead she blurted out, "I'm glad you see us that way, Mike."

She took a deep breath. _So much for keeping it professional sounding!_

As hard as he tried, Mike could not take his eyes off of her. He had never seen a woman more vibrantly lovely in his entire life.

All frustrations he felt from the other day had melted, like a chunk of ice thrown into a raging fire. He stared into her velvety brown eyes.

But he could not read her mood. Previously she had looked warm and utterly inviting, but now her smile wavered as she focused her attention on looking around the room.

The room felt hot to Connie. She cleared her throat, "...Seeing as though there is nothing to do but wait..."

She started getting up from her seat, but it was difficult. Her knees felt so wobbly.

Mike panicked. How had he managed to lose her interest? Still, he was determined not to let her get away this time.

He wanted her so badly it hurt.

They were both standing now.

"Wait Connie...I know it will be a while before SVU will respond...so...why don't we grab some lunch?"

The idea of time alone with Mike sounded so inviting. She pondered what to do. Hadn't she learned from Marcus Woll to not get personally involved with her boss? Yet Woll was not Mike.

Only Mike could make her sigh with longing whenever she heard a love song on the radio.

No, Woll definitely was _not_ Mike.

"It sounds nice, but, Mike..." Connie weakly protested, as she assessed all his untouched work, "what about all the work pending on your desk?"

Mike stuck both his arms out with a look of exasperation.

"_What?_ Am I not allowed to go out for lunch every now and then?" asked Mike, dramatically, "This will be my first lunch out of the office all week! Besides, I am taking you up on that raincheck for coffee you promised on the courthouse stairs the other day...we'll just add in sandwiches for good measure."

The stillness of the office was underlaid with noises from the traffic outside along with the sounds of their own breathing. Connie's heart started beating faster again at the thought of an intimate luncheon with Mike.

She was not going to argue _this_ issue any further.

"We can go to our old coffee haunt," Connie suggested, despite a tiny voice telling her not to make it so personal. She tried to shake that nagging thought. She refused to let pride spoil her time with Mike. She deserved to end her week on a happy note.

Mike nodded, and his reply seemed to mirror her own thoughts.

"Connie, going to our old coffee place would be a perfect way to end the week. I would love to have lunch with you there."

Just then Connie's Blackberry buzzed, interrupting them. She brought it out and read the number ID on the screen. It was Joe Dekker from Los Angeles calling her.

"I'm sorry, it's my boss," explained Connie. She then looked up at Mike and couldn't help flashing a smile at him, "my _real_ boss- in Los Angeles."

"Oh? So it's your _real_ boss? By all means, then," said Mike encouraging her to take the call.

As he waited, Mike started putting on his jacket, pleased to have a chance to spend some alone time with Connie.

Her call was short and to the point. Dekker was doing all the talking. Mike observed Connie nodding as her expression turned solemn. His heart fell when he heard her end the call by saying, "Alright, Joe, see you soon."

She hung up and continued staring at her Blackberry. Somehow her mood shifted.

"Is there a problem, Connie?" Mike asked, his face showing concern.

"Strange," said Connie, looking confused, as she put away her Blackberry in her purse, "Suddenly Joe has a case that needs my _immediate_ assistance. He insists for me to fly back now_...right now_."

Mike and Connie both looked at each other, disheartened.

.

Just twenty minutes earlier, Carly had ended her call with Joe Dekker over in Los Angeles. Joe Dekker, as always, had taken control of the situation.

"Rest assure, Miss Mitchell, that I will certainly handle this matter regarding Miss Rubirosa! I thank you for bringing it promptly to my attention," responded a grateful Dekker.

Carly smiled.

"Not at all, Mr. Dekker," assured Carly, "We are all working for the common good, right?"

"_Ri-ight_," Dekker agreed, although he wasn't quite sure what she had been referring to.

With the call completed, Carly gathered all her work papers, quite pleased with how her afternoon was turning out after all. She did not have any doubt that Dekker would make the call.

If she could not have Mike, she sure as hell was not going to let Rubirosa have him, either, she thought with a malicious smirk, as she left her office.

.

.

_('For better or worse'... wink! wink! fadedelegance and 25thday!)_

_Please review_


	18. Chapter 18

The Verdict

Chapter 18

Joe Dekker had insisted Connie fly back immediately to Los Angeles.

Words fluttered and collided inside of Connie as she looked at Mike, but she couldn't seem to force them out.

Mike's mind seemed filled with regret as he also struggled for the right words to say.

"_So-o_…" he stated dismally, "I guess we won't be having that lunch after all...will we?"

"I'm so sorry, Mike," Connie responded regretfully.

Mike looked down, a heavy weight settling on his chest. When his head came back up, he tried to wipe any disappointment from his expression.

"…I understand. As you had mentioned earlier, I certainly could use this time to catch up on my work."

For a man who spent every minute of his life managing, controlling, struggling and conquering, this moment of resignation coming from Mike was hard for Connie to witness.

She watched as he removed his jacket and hung it back up.

He then proceeded to roll up his sleeves, as he often did when he had a pile load of work to do. The sight of his hands working his sleeves seemed to affect her, somehow, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks. She was recalling the incredible warmth and feel of his hands touching her.

And she yearned for him.

He had finished rolling his sleeves and looked over at her, with sadness in his eyes, "I wished you could have stayed here longer, Connie."

A sad, sweet ache formed inside of Connie at his words and she now knew what she should do.

"When I said I wouldn't be having lunch with you now," stated Connie, "it is _not_ because I am leaving, but because I need to get started on the case right away. There is a murderer out there with _conviction_ stamped all over his forehead."

Mike looked at her, light flickering in the blueness of his eyes. He seemed to be fighting to keep his emotions intact.

"So...you're staying then?"

Connie nodded with a smile, "Yes, for now. No way am I going to let Exley get the better of your office! Now if you'll excuse me, the first call I must make will be to Los Angeles!"

She hoped she made the right decision.

By remaining here she knew there would be consequences to face once she got back to LA. But she was willing to accept the risk in return for remaining here with Mike. No, I mean, by remaining here _for the case_, she corrected herself.

She took a deep breath in. Who was she fooling here?

.

**Four ****days ****later**

If she thought staying would allow her more time to see Mike, she was sadly mistaken. New evidence had surfaced and a different suspect had been arrested.

Being the lone lead attorney on the case had Connie working until all hours of the day and night. She did nothing else except live and breathe the case. She had no time she could call her own. The only time she even gave Mike a personal thought was in the solitude of her nights back at the hotel.

The Wendy Smith murder trial proceeded quickly, with media interest at a new high.

Due to Connie dilligence on the case, the actual trial ran smoothly.

As lead attorney, Connie was organized and concise, as she presented a well- argued case against the now accused Thomas Smith, father of the victim Wendy.

Her closing arguments captivated the jury.

The decision was now at the hands of the jury.

At the end of two days, the bailiff had informed lawyers on both sides that the jury was back. Spectators and media reporters filled the courtroom to capacity, anxious to hear the verdict.

At the defense table, attorney Stan Exley tiredly massaged his temple and nervously pushed back the few hairs he had left. Then he restlessly rubbed his palms against the top of his thighs.

He turned and looked at his client, Thomas Smith.

"Christ!" cussed Exley, noting Smith's disheveled court appearance for the first time, "You look like hell!"

Obviously Exley was taking out his mood on his client.

Thomas Smith turned and looked at his attorney. his eyes dead, "Does it really matter _what_ I look like on my last day of freedom?"

Exley gave the requisite pep talk, "Let's not write it off as a lost yet, Tom. From experience, I know juries are tricky. Just when I think one of my clients is going down, BAM! He ends up leaving the courthouse a freed man. Just remember: it ain't over until the fat juror sings!"

But Smith already looked defeated, and Exley wasn't going to fight it because, personally, he thought Thomas Smith was as guilty as hell.

From everything Exley could ascertain, that crazy bastard had probably kidnapped his own daughter to spite his wife. Then with all his various resources, Smith was able to pin the daughter's accidental death on Watson.

Exley tried his best to defend the guy, but once SVU located and interrogated John Watson, they discovered a trail of evidence that led all the way back to Wendy's father.

Exley looked over at the prosecution side of the table. He also had to give credit where credit was due- that Rubirosa put on a convincing case.

And her closing statement was brilliant.

What he couldn't figure out was why the Bureau Chief was so heavily involved in the case. Christ almighty, Cutter was probably responsible for turning down the plea bargain and insisting they go to trial. Cutter, as usual, was out for blood.

Over on the prosecution side, Mike and Connie sat together at the table. She looked back at the gallery and gave a reassuring nod when she spotted John Watson, who had all charges dismissed against him. He gratefully nodded back.

Turning to face the bench again, Connie bit her lower lip, hoping no one could hear her heart beating faster. Sensing her nervousness, Mike wanted so much to grasp Connie's hand, a gesture to reassure her everything would be alright. Instead he leaned down and spoke to her in a low voice.

"As first chair, you'll always feel this way before the jury come in. Just remember one thing, Connie," he encouraged her, "You've presented a brilliant case against Smith. I could not be more proud of you, whatever the outcome."

Connie turned her head slightly to look at Mike and for the first time, she managed a feeble smile. She noticed today he had worn his three- piece suit to court, which he only wore on his most serious of days. Funny she should notice such a small detail. Was there anything about him that escaped her notice?

Having Mike next to her meant everything.

Seconds later, court was called to order and the judge resumed the bench. She admonished everyone to conduct him or herself in an orderly manner when the verdict was handed down. Then she asked the bailiff to summon in the jury. Connie nervously focused on the opened doors of the courtroom as the jurors respectfully walked in.

Seven women and five men quietly filed into the jury box. Connie's heart was pounding so fast that she thought it would burst.

"Have you reached a verdict?" asked Judge Quinn to the jurors.

The foreman stood, "We have, your honor. We, the people of the jury, find Thomas Ralph Smith..._guilty_."

Connie's stomach had not settled down all morning and when the verdict finally sunk in her mind, a sense of relief calmed the rolling sensations.

A murmuring of approval could be heard from the gallery as Connie and Mike exchanged relieved glances.

The loud banging of the gavel echoed in the room.

Court adjourned.

Ten minutes later, the courtroom had been cleared, leaving just Mike and Connie at the prosecution table. Connie remained in her seat, just wanting to soak in the victory. This case had taken so much out of her. Throughout her quiet jubilation, Mike sat quietly next to her.

The victorious feeling was soon replaced by a melancholy realization.

She pushed out her chair and slowly stood up, as did Mike. Connie had bargained with Jonah Dekker that she would be on the first flight out to LA as soon as a verdict was announced.

With sadness shadowing her heart, Connie mechanically started putting all the papers back in her briefcase. Sensing Mike's dark, assessing gaze on her, she looked over his way.

"_What_? What is it, Mike?"

"Well..." responded Mike, looking concerned, "... for a prosecutor who just won her first major murder case, you are looking rather glum."

Connie tried to appear casual, but inside she felt empty. She knew she had to put thoughts of him aside and get on with her own life.

"I guess I'm just hungry, is all. It _is_ lunchtime…but I ...I need to get back to the hotel…to pack."

Mike knew exactly what she meant.

"You're leaving," he curtly mumbled.

"I told you, Mike, I would immediately after the verdict was read...I have completed my responsibilities here."

Both knew there were so many things left unsaid.

"So...you're leaving _now_?"

"I've already extended my stay. Besides," Connie jested, "I can't stay and win _all_ your cases for you, Mike!"

He managed a smile.

"I know your time is short, but at least let me treat you to a hot dog from the vendor outside. It won't take any time at all. Call it our first AND last lunch together."

He looked at her earnestly.

Connie gazed at him with her beautiful brown eyes, trying not to show the apparent melancholy she was feeling. A chance to spend a little time with him before she departs. What would it hurt?

"I would absolutely love that, Mike, thanks."

.

.

_Yes, yes, I know I rushed through the case, but this is a romance after all, right?_ :)

**_Please review._**


	19. Chapter 19

The lunch date

Chapter 19

Mike and Connie were to finally have that promised lunch, howbeit, a rushed one.

They had no time for a leisure lunch at an intimate, elegant establishment. Their lunch ambiance would consist of a hot dog cart located outside in front of the courthouse.

But neither one was complaining; they were happy just being together.

They walked closely in tandem out of the courtroom.

"I guess I should be grateful," stated Connie, "for not only winning a case today, but for you taking out time from your busy schedule to have lunch with me!"

"Actually, the real reason for the lunch invitation is I wouldn't want you going back to LA and telling everyone your New York boss had never treated you to lunch!" he teased.

Connie couldn't help but smile.

They walked through the courthouse hallway, their footsteps echoing loud on the linoleum floor. There was a scattering of people walking in the passageway.

Anyone looking at them would think they were a couple, the way they strolled shoulder to shoulder, listening intently to what the other had to say.

But what people didn't know was that they were anything _but_ together; this would be the last time for them. Mike was so physically close to her now, their shoulders were almost touching.

She wished that he would reach over, wrap his arm around her, and tell her everything was going to be alright. Just let her snuggle in his comforting arms! But there was that professional facade they had always maintained.

Except for that one unforgettable, haunting kiss.

Mike suddenly halted, steps before he reached the main door.

He turned to face her, his expression never giving away his thoughts. Mike took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, his hand resting on the door handle leading to the outside.

"Mike?" questioned Connie, her breathing quickening.

"I just wanted to say one thing, Connie...stay here with me."

The words remained suspended in the air.

Connie was caught speechless. Needing to do something, go somewhere, she awkwardly reached her hand out and opened the courtroom door leading to the outside.

The afternoon sunlight entered the building, bathing the entry way in a yellowish glow. Connie had to squint as she stepped forward in the sunlight, stunned, not sure if she heard what she heard.

Suddenly there was the sound of running footsteps coming from all directions towards them.

They had walked out of the courthouse and immediately a frenzy of reporters converged on the twosome.

"Miss Rubirosa! Miss Rubirosa!"

"No, over here, Councillor!"

"Just one question, _please!_"

"Miss Rubirosa! What do you think..."

A wall of inquisitive newspeople surrounded Connie.

One female reporter shoved a microphone into Connie's face and asked her if she had any after-trial comments regarding the case? Another person pushed his recorder forward and asked how did she feel about the inevitable appeal that will be filed? Someone else in the back loudly asked if she would be seeking the death penalty? She heard the sound of clicking cameras as a light beam shined in her face.

_Stay here with me.._.

In the chaos that ensued, her mind was struggling to interpret Mike's last statement as she fought to diplomatically respond to the reporters' questions. Connie needed to raise her voice to be heard over the fray.

"Please.._.one question at a time_...or this makeshift press conference is _over._." Connie warned as the loud, incessant demands suddenly became a quiet murmuring.

She found herself giving a sweeping statement about how justice was served for an innocent, young girl who had been tragically taken away far too soon As she tried her best to field the questions, realization hit her that Mike was no longer by her side.

She panicked. Had Mike left without her?

Had she lost her chance with him?

Anxiety filled her as she looked through the crowd, she finally caught sight of him. He was composedly leaning against the wall of the courthouse, with his arms folded. He nodded encouragingly to her, a pleased expression on his face.

His smile seemed to say, _Go __ahead __and __enjoy __your __time __in __the __limelight. __You've __deserved __it._

She smiled back at him, happy that he was here to share this incredible journey with her.

.

Mike and Connie's last lunch would be unforgettable.

The New York air felt fresh and crisp as they continued walking.

They had arrived at the old hot dog vendor located immediately outside the DA's office. In better times, Mike, Jack and she had patronized this very cart for a quick lunch way back when.

Mike greeted the hot dog vendor and showed two fingers as the vendor expertly placed the dog on the bun and piled on the fixings. Connie was please that Mike had remembered exactly what she liked on her hot dog.

This scene played like a corny romantic movie where the couple strolls through Central Park on a lovely Sunday afternoon while the male lead approaches the vendor and holds up two fingers to indicate the number of hot dogs they wanted, as the couple leisurely enjoy each other's company for the day.

Except it wasn't Sunday, they weren't in Central Park, they weren't a couple, and their togetherness time was running out.

I need to get these silly romantic notions out of my head, she mused.

Mike made a suggestion.

"Connie, it's such a lovely day, let's say we take a walk through the park."

It was as if he had read her mind. Connie turned her head to look at Mike and all she could read was a look of sincere pleading in his eyes.

She checked her watch. She was certainly playing it close..._however_..

"I'd like that very much," Connie decided quickly with a smile.

As they walked to Central Park for lunch, the sights around New York brought back so many memories for her. The taxi rides to the courthouse, the newspaper stand where she purchased her favorite magazines, the corner coffee shop, the front of Wong's Takeout, and their final destination, Central Park.

She would miss it all when she went back to California. Sadness and regret settled in, as Connie turned towards Mike and realized his presence would be what she would miss the most. But she had a life back in LA.

Connie looked up at the sky and noted it had darkened, another reminder that she was in New York and not sunny Los Angeles.

They sat on a random bench in the park, munching on their quick lunch, small talking about the case, about New York City, about anything that came to their minds.

They purposely wanted to keep the conversation light; they just wanted to take pleasure in one another's company.

They had finished their meal. As Connie was wiping her hands, she noticed Mike was mysteriously reaching into his jacket pocket, "There's something of yours I need to give back, Connie."

"You mean, the extravagant lunch was not enough, Mike?"

He smiled wryly as she looked down at his displayed closed fist, which enclosed the unknown object.

Slowly he unfolded his fingers. There, laying in the middle of his palm, was her missing tortoise-shelled button from her winter coat.

Connie gasped with delight at finding her button at last.

"Oh, Mike! My missing button! I can't believe you've kept it all this time!" She reached out to take the button, and felt a slight jolt from her finger grazing the palm of his hand.

The touch had also flustered Mike. He took a deep breath.

Mike was watching how much pleasure Connie was taking in a simple button. He liked that she had this soft vulnerability underneath a layer of strength and determination. He admired that she was someone who would not be intimidated by the massive ambition and turmoil that seemed to be a part of his life. She had always been a calming influence for him.

Best of all, she made him realize how simple and truly wonderful life could be.

Connie had been looking down at the button, and when she looked back up, she noted how intently he had been staring at her.

"I've held that button in my hand every day for months," he candidly stated, "simply because it was something that belonged to you. Although you were thousands of miles away, it made me somehow feel closer to you."

Connie sent an incredulous gaze at him, touched that he was so sentimental.

She felt she was in a wonderful dream that had come to a close, "Mike, I don't know what to say."

Connie's heartbeat raced with excitement when he turned to look at her.

"I meant it when I asked you to stay here, Connie, but not as a work colleague. Stay here because you want to be _with_ _me_."

Mike had always prided himself on staying emotionless in any situation. But for the first time in his life, Mike was afraid of his own emotions as he laid everything on the line.

His professional façade broke apart, leaving his heart exposed in the rubble.

With his words, the crushing sadness Connie felt at leaving began to ease its iron grip around her heart. She could not believe what she was hearing.

_Dipple dop_

Before Connie could respond, she unexpectedly felt something drop on her shoulder. When she turned to look, something slightly harder tapped on her nose. It was cold and liquidy.

_Dipple dop Dipple Dipple dop_

Then she felt something on one of her shoulders, as well as one on her leg. The ground slowly began to fill with watered dots.

The sky had darkened considerably.

__Dipple Dipple dop _Dipple Dipple dop ___Dipple Dipple...______

Raindrops were falling.

And they were getting heavier by the second.

There was a rolling, rumbling sound in the near distance.

A storm was headed their way.

.

.

_Please review._


	20. Chapter 20

Rainy Day People

Chapter 20

.

Both of them looked up at the sudden rumblings of thunder in the sky. In only a matter of seconds, the sky darkened from silver-white to gray as a few fast drops started falling faster and faster.

Suddenly a cloud burst and rain pelted every which way in the park. Mike and Connie jumped up from the bench and were forced to bring up their briefcases to over their heads, anchoring it with their free hand.

They looked around the park for cover as the deluge of rain fell everywhere.

_TzingTzingTzing_TzingTzingTzing_..._

They were getting wetter the longer they delayed.

"Over there!" shouted Mike above the downpour, as he pointed to an emptied gazebo.

Through the pouring rain, they could make out a tiny wooden structure, standing all alone. Situated away from the main pathway and up a small hill, the vintage Victorian-styled pavilion would provide a makeshift shelter from the oncoming storm.

Instinctively Mike grabbed Connie's hand and they ran for protection, as the rain continued to shower down on the park's grassy earth and hedges.

Despite the cold, wet encounter, Mike's hand felt warm and strong as it securely wrapped around hers in a perfect fit as they ran for safety. Connie knew she should be concentrating on dodging the thundering rain, but what she was trying to do was dodge her thundering heart.

Thunder streaked across the sky.

The rain continued to pound heavily on the lawn and paved walkways. Nothing remained dry from the rainstorm.

_TzingTzingTzing_TzingTzingTzing_..._

The more they ran, the harder the rain seemed to storm down. The briefcases above their heads were useless, as they were both soaked to the skin.

Their shoes splashed on newly-made puddles as they ran. Like kids, they soon found themselves laughing when unexpected pools of water continually spattered up their rain-saturated legs as they hurried along. They were almost to the gazebo, their laughter pealing over the rain.

They were soaked by the time they found shelter from the rain. Connie almost hated when he let go of her hand. Her hand immediately turned cold and slippery without his warm grasp.

The raindrops fell hard and fast outside the covered area as they expressed amusement at their drenched bodies.

"Oh! I'm all wet!"Connie was still laughing, in spite herself, swishing the wet drops from her clothes.

"A downpour will do that to you!" said Mike, looking amused, as he, too, tried to shake the wetness from his coat.

She looked over as he tried unsuccessfully to dry himself.

He really is quite dashing, thought Connie with admiration, as she drank in the sight of his rain-washed face and his gleaming wet hair.

The rain was coming down in sheets and with the coldness blowing from the outside, Connie took comfort in the quietude of the garden gazebo.

As she looked around, Connie thought the quaint structure could be described as... enchanting. The open aired rustic wooden structure offered a warm haven for them. Surrounding the belvedere, dewy petals of flowers mixed with the rain to produce a fresh, fragrant aroma.

"Luckily for us, you had spotted this gazebo, Mike!"

"Oh yes,I am _quite_ the knight in shining armor!" teased Mike, " ..._and_ ... I will always be available to rescue fair maidens such as yourself!"

He made an exaggerated bow, as an accumulation of water dripped off of him, creating tiny puddles on the floor.

Connie laughed at the comical sight. She actually found herself having a grand time.

"Oh really? So this is a 'rescue', you say?" she jested, "My heart be still! But if this be a rescue, _oh brave, humble knight,_ then kindly explain how I had become so wet with rain?"

She purposely stood still, arms slightly out, as droplets of water continually slid off her.

He grinned at the watery mess she had become.

"A knight cannot battle the rain-clouds in the skies above, milady, but I find that weathering the storm alongside you has been a most pleasant of experiences!"

He had meant it in a teasing way, but it seemed to take on a double meaning. At that seemingly innocuous remark, the mood had suddenly shifted.

As the rain continued to pour outside, it only emphasized the intimate setting of the charming gazebo, as they gazed at one another.

_TzingTzingTzing_TzingTzingTzing..._.._

And suddenly there were two less lonely people in New York City.

Mike's intense blue eyes gazed directly at Connie, causing her heart to thump hard in her chest. His eyes dropped to her exquisite mouth, noting the subtle but delicious indentation in the center of her lower lip.

Thunder sounded in the distance.

_Booo-ooom!_

The loud noise interrupted their private moment. It brought them back to reality. They needed to discuss what needed to be done. Mike awkwardly looked down to check his watch.

"Uh...All this rain will certainly slow down your departure to LA somewhat..."

He hadn't exactly sound disappointed at the prospect.

"I agree. I can't walk back to my rental car now," said Connie, as she began to shake her jacket again, "I may have to call a taxi to pick me up here."

"I can do it for you, but even if I call for a taxi now, it'll take a while for it to get through all this rain." Mike commented as he brought out his Blackberry.

Connie stared outside at the torrential downpour. Everywhere the grassy areas of the park had turned to runny mud on the walkways.

She was glad Mike was the one here with her.

And it was in that moment that Connie realized that there was a great difference between wanting an attractive person and wanting someone that she truly cared about. Through all the law debates, shared confidences, the frequent banterings, and the simmering tensions, something new had developed between them. Attraction and liking had changed into much deeper, intense feelings.

She looked back at Mike. The rhythmic sounds of the rain seemed to hypnotize them. They stared at each other in hopeless fascination.

She hadn't even realized what she was doing as she placed her hand on top of his, to stop him from further pushing buttons on his Blackberry. He stared at her hand resting on top of his, rivulets of tiny rain dripping off from his face onto her hands.

_Drip drip..._

He looked down at Connie's hand overlaying his.

"Connie? The taxi?"

Outside, the rain was pouring by bucketfuls, yet neither one felt cold or wet from the rain any longer. Along the outer edges of the gazebo, droplets formed and fell, but they were not aware of what was happening in the outside world.

"Mike, perhaps we can out-wait the rain... what do you think?"

Her question had been totally unexpected. It took Mike some time to find his voice.

"It may not stop for hours, Connie," Mike reasoned, his voice uneven, "and…truthfully...I don't trust myself to be alone with you for even five minutes..."

Connie felt tingles coursing through her body at Mike's comment. He suddenly became aware on how her wet clothes clung seductively to the curves of her body.

Then she slightly shivered and he realized with a start that she had been standing in wet clothes for a while and must feel the chill in the air.

With no regard for his own wetness, he removed his wool coat and gallantly hung it around her shoulders, bringing back memories of the first day she saw him in the garden at the retirement party.

"To keep you warm," he explained, and then to himself, he added, and to suppress my desires.

Connie accepted the coat, although she had not been shivering from the cold. She watched him with awe. All his romantic words and gestures were so completely outside her expectations of him.

The tenacious, driven prosecutor she had known was replaced by someone warm...and understanding, and she yearned to be in his arms again.

Neither one heard the rolling thunder from the skies as gazed at one another, mesmerized.

Connie was stunned by the dream-swept, faraway sound of her own voice as she responded.

"Thank you, you've made me feel so warm inside," she responded, with a slight smile, wrapping the jacket tighter around her.

The meaning was not lost on Mike. He knew Connie had to leave, but he was powerless to control his reaction to her. He was only aware of the soft sparkle of her eyes and the slight flush that arose on her cheeks from her unintended last statement.

_TzingTzingTzing_TzingTzingTzing..._..._

The rain continued to pour relentlessly, as they remained inside the sheltered pavilion.

"So, no taxi?" he asked, with hope in his heart.

She shook her head slowly.

"I'm not ready to leave you yet, " she announced softly.

Connie had not intended to speak the words aloud, but they pressed forth on their own, accompanied by the rhythmic sounds of the pouring rain.

The noise from the rain could not completely deafen the sounds from the beating of their hearts.

Another sound of pounding thunder could be heard in the distance.

__Booo-ooom!__

Connie could not look away. The dull ache of loneliness that she had been feeling recently had dissolved.

At the same time, Mike had been convinced he would never find anyone special; that work would occupy his time, his life. But now he had someone to fill his empty arms.

Mike couldn't take his eyes off her as he reached out and gently held her at the waist, hoping that she would not pull away.

He gathered her in closer. She sighed at the thrill of being in his arms again.

Impulsively Connie reached up and wiped a few of the last drops of water that clung to his clean-shaven jawline. Her fingers lightly touched his lips while her body strained willingly towards him.

As he reacted to her touch, a strong current of emotions that had been damned up for years inside of Mike was at last allowed to flow free.

"Connie," his voice was like a whisper alongside the lushness of the rain, "I'm glad we got caught up in the rain together."

_TzingTzingTzing_TzingTzingTzing..._..._

The rain was not letting up, but Connie was unconcerned as she took a deep breath.

"Me, too, Mike...for I now know I belong here with you."

.

.

_We __are co__ming __to __the __end__!_

_Please __review_


	21. Chapter 21

The thundering of their hearts

Chapter 21

"...for _I now know I belong here with you."_

The newly- developed storm pounded on the wooden white gazebo, but its force was nothing compared to the violent beating of their hearts.

Mike couldn't believe what he was hearing as they stood locked in an embrace in the sheltered pavillion. She had just admitted she belonged here with him.

When he had instinctively pulled her in his arms, it seemed like the most natural gesture in the world, as if they had been in each other's arms everyday of their lives.

_Zaa-aam!_

A streak of lightening blazed across the sky accompanied by an earsplitting sound of thunder. The rain continued to pelt the park, but Connie felt safe, howbeit, wet.

"I must look a dripping mess..." Connie stated.

Mike didn't notice her drenched look; after all, he was waterlogged himself. He was looking into her eyes, which looked as cool and refreshing as the rain outside. He could stare into them forever. He was so close to her, he could see the small drops that had gathered in her long lashes.

"Connie, you could not look more beautiful than you do now..."

She felt weak from his admission. The moment spun out with dizziness as she swayed against him.

As if in agreeable response, soundless lightening streaked across the sky, softening up the darkness from its original gray background.

At the thought of leaving him, it felt as if her heart had been ripped apart as she gazed back at him.

"Mike, I really must get back to LA... But I'll be back, I promise." She tried to force a smile, "Just remember, a good bye is only sad if you know you will never say hello again."

At least he returned her smile.

Having him so close was causing a nerveless, excited quiver all throughout Connie's body.

He was looking at her with a questioning gaze.

"Our timing is always slightly off, isn't it? It's just...god, Connie...one chance with you is all I ask..."

He looked down, disheartened. Connie slid her hand beneath his chin, bringing it gently up so his eyes met hers.

"... Don't you know, Mike?... I'd be a fool to throw away my one chance at true romance."

Their eyes were bright and passion-filled.

Mike leaned in as his mouth angled over hers in a tentative kiss. Heat radiated all throughout her body at the familiar feel of him.

Slowly the gentle embrace became more urgent, as his tongue began searching hers in deep sweeps. Connie found herself relaxing against his hard body, accepting the steamy pleasure of his kiss.

The rain drops from both their bodies intermixed and joined together as the kiss now turned to unrestrained passion.

To Mike, Connie was sensual and sweet at the same time and he appreciated how her body molded perfectly to his.

Breaking the kiss, Mike then traced kisses lightly along her jawline, finding the vulnerable area along the side of her throat. He finally found the sensitive area where a pulse throbbed wildly and he felt her body trembling.

Then he sealed his mouth over hers once more, kissing her passionately. Connie's weak defenses crumbled, as he possessed her mouth with deep, delicious kisses. There was no way he would let go of her now.

It was as though she was imprisoned by his mouth and hands. She was only aware of how Mike explored her with deep strokes of his tongue as heat smoldered inside her. It was as before, except there was a sense of urgency in the way he embraced her.

As the rain continued to fall outside Connie wanted to kiss him until the sun shined through.

But the world soon came crashing in as lightening suddenly flashed, illuminating their silhouette, while thunder could be heard rumbling.

When the kiss had ended and they had separated, their breaths came in steamy gusts.

Hearing the jerking rhythm of her own breathing, Connie slowly eased herself away from him, every nerve in her body screaming with protest. But it was getting late, and despite what she said, Connie really needed to be on her way. She had a plane to catch.

"Mike..."

He looked at her with curiosity, as she offered him a sweet smile.

"What is it?" His voice sounded ragged.

"I need to tell you..." she was looking at him with large, luminous eyes.

"Yes?" Mike whispered anxiously.

"It's just that…I feel…so…so…"

"...so what?" he asked, unsure and curious at the same time.

She paused, and Mike stopped feeling guarded when he noted her fighting a grin.

_"..slippery_…I feel rain-slippery, Mike. I really need to get into some dry clothes. Perhaps you _do_ need to call that taxi."

Mike smiled with a mischievous sparkle in the blues of his eyes, "I agreed. I could have sworn I heard squishy noises every time we moved!"

They exchanged smiles and the world seemed so promising.

.

.

It was dark, but free of rain, by the time the taxi brought them right up to the outside of La Guardia airport.

As much as she wanted to stay, as much as she knew she belonged to New York City, there were still things she needed to get done in LA.

Mike paid the driver, who then walked over to the trunk to retrieve one large suitcase. Mike intercepted the suitcase, ready to carry it to the airport counter for Connie.

But Connie reached over and placed her hand over his hand that had been holding the handle of her case. She had a forced smile on her face.

"Mike, this is where we part ways."

She tried not to see the disappointment in his face, "_Please, _Mike. I need to walk the rest of the way alone. I couldn't bear the thought of you watching my departing flight."

She had a point. He didn't think he could bear it, either.

"If that's what you prefer, Connie..."

Mike looked reluctant as he placed her suitcase on the ground next to her.

This was it.

Neither one felt the coldness of the air, nor the honking of impatient horns or even the foot traffic from people rushing to and fro.

They were only aware that this was their goodbye.

"Connie," Mike spoke tentatively, "This is all so new for me. The thought of the possibility of a 'us' ... I am so ...afraid... that in the future...I'd disappoint you."

With that comment, Connie couldn't help but smile. Since when had Mike Cutter ever been tentative, ever been afraid of disappointing anyone?

"Mike, that could never happen."

The blueness in Mike's eyes seemed to illuminate his face.

"I just think..." Mike searched for the right words, "...we have something very special here."

He watched her intently, hoping she would not contradict that statement. Connie took a deep breath.

"I think so, too..but...I must warn you that I have high expectations..."

There seemed to be a slight glint in her eyes

"Oh _real-ly_," Mike wasn't entirely sure if she were kidding or not, "and what do you mean by this talk of 'high expectations'?"

Connie knew he would ask and she was ready with an answer. Her smile was sincere as she reached up and touched his lower cheek softly.

"What do I mean by high expectations?" she repeated, as she gently caressed his chin, "...one day, Mike Cutter, I expect to see the image of you comfortably shaving in front of _my_ bathroom mirror. So-o ...is _that_ a high enough expectation?"

Mike felt his pulse quickening at the implied relationship they would have together in a time to come. It gave him hope.

"I am looking forward for that expectation myself!" stated Mike, his eyes sparkling before turning dark and serious again, "In the meantime, keep me in your thoughts..."

With every breath I take, Connie thought to herself.

Her hand now drifted down to lightly touched Mike's shoulder as she leaned in. She kissed him ardently, winning his eager response. His last kiss with her felt hot and tender against her flushed skin. The unplanned gesture was so unlike her, but she could not have felt more _like_ herself.

"I'll be back before you know it, Mike."

Mike couldn't believe how beautiful she looked.

Connie's eyes reflected the starlight as her hair softly framed her face. He lifted his hand to touch her cheek for the last time, feeling her warmth in the palm of his hand.

He saw her eyes filled with sadness as she stepped away from him. She bent down and picked up her suitcase and headed towards the terminal building.

Her lone silhouette was outlined against the moonlit night, as he heard the familiar clicking of her heels.

He never took his eyes off her as she walked away into the dark cold night. When she approached the terminal doors, they automatically opened and he soon lost her amidst the bustling crowd of travelers.

His hands stuffed into his pockets now, he stood isolated on the misty sidewalk.

The night suddenly felt bleak and gloomy. His heart sank as he turned and got in the taxi instructing the driver to take him to the DA's office on Centre Street.

After all, he still had work to do in the office.

The cab drove away and Mike looked out at the darkness of the night, deep in thought. His mind was not on what he needed to get done at work, but on Connie's departure. As he thought of their parting words, an odd thought entered his mind.

Where was the "good" in a goodbye?

Out the window he could see an indefinite number of stars twinkling. They seemed so far away. Just like her.

Mike took a deep breath in. Before long, Connie would be gone from New York City... a million miles past the moon. At least that is how far away it felt to him.

_But,_ he tried to think optimistically, one day she would be back.

She promised.

.

.

_Last (short) __chapter __coming __up!_

**_Please __review_**


	22. Chapter 22

Home

Chapter 22

**_Later _****_that _****_evening.._**.

Mike had gone straight from the airport to work.

At the end of the workday, Bureau Chief Michael Cutter gazed out the window, which overlooked the entire city. He had a pile of work to do, but his mind had wandered over to view the sight of the city's skyline. When he caught sight of a random airplane innocuously flying above the city, he thought of Connie on her way back to LA.

Connie.

He missed her already.

But instead of feeling sadness, contentment filled his lungs as he took a deep breath. He felt lucky that he now had someone in his life, in his heart. Sure, she had to get back to LA to fulfill commitments, but it would not be for long.

The emptiness he felt from her absence only emphasized the fact that he now had someone in his life _worth_ missing. He now understood the "good" in a goodbye.

A knock on his opened office door interrupted his thoughts.

Detective Olivia Benson leaned her body in, " You've got some time, Mike? I know it's late, but I'll make it quick. " she now strutted in, "I wanted to talk to you about the Maxwell case."

Sometimes Mike wanted the world to stop so that he could just be alone with his thoughts, do some reflecting. Today would not be that day.

"Sure, please, detective…" Mike responded as he bade her to sit down.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to take a seat. His right hand felt something loose in his front pocket and he pulled out a small, flat, round object.

Connie's tortoise shelled button.

He smiled as he turned the button around in his hand, wondering how Connie had managed to accomplish the small feat of placing it in his pocket without his notice.

"Mike?" Olivia's voice broke his thoughts.

Mike looked back up and took a seat behind his desk. He closed his fist protectively around the button.

"Yes?"

"So... do you want to charge Maxwell, or what?" Olivia was sounding slightly impatient.

"What?" Mike asked.

Connie had obviously left the button as a reminder that she would be back, he thought, quite pleased.

"I _said_," Olivia repeated, looking strangely at the Bureau Chief, "Do you want to charge him with anything… or do you want to play with that button all evening?"

Olivia had a scowl on her face, wondering why everyone insisted that Michael Cutter was all about getting down to business, all about convictions, all about work. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear he had been daydreaming about that damn button he had in his hand!

"As you know" Olivia stated, "the ADA is reluctant to charge Maxwell because the victim took the risk and jurors do not sympathize with acts of stupidity."

Mike shifted his thoughts; he had decisions to make.

"Of course we'll charge Maxwell!" Mike insisted "Our office will charge him with depraved indifference!"

_Oh, good, he does have balls,_ thought Olivia.

"It'll be tough to make that charge stick," Olivia pointed out, "the defense will argue that Maxwell was drunk and was seduced by the victim on that night."

Mike didn't skip a beat.

"Maxwell knew he was HIV-positive, _and_ he knew the consequences of infecting someone else! There is no doubt to his culpability!"

Olivia nodded. This was more like it!

"I'll make the arrest..." Olivia said, as she started to get up.

"Hold on, detective, before you leave," added Mike, "We'll also charge him with three counts of sexual battery. And I think with some creative lawyering we should be able to up the charge to Man One..."

Olivia sat back down, liking this different side of the new Bureau Chief. She was nodding appreciatively as Mike continued his relentless pursuit of justice, while holding on to the button the entire time.

.

.

_**At **__**the **__**same **__**time...**_

The low rumble of the engine could be heard once again as the airplane, headed the opposite direction, away from New York City towards Los Angeles.

As Connie looked out the window, a smile formed on her lips. She had arrived in New York City with hesitant misgivings, and left it with a happiness she had never thought was possible.

Good old Jack was right after all. Being happy was fine, but being passionately happy was what dreams were made of.

The flight attendant stopped by.

"Nothing for me, thanks," Connie told her regarding refreshments, "Perhaps later."

Connie just wanted to be left alone and relive the time she had in New York.

"Actually, Miss Rubirosa, " said the flight attendant, "I came by to give this to you."

The flight attendant then produced a somewhat small, boxed package, not much bigger than a box to hold a coffee mug. It was beautifully wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with a red ribbon tied around it.

Surprised, Connie tentatively reached out to accept it. She viewed it from all angles in wonderment.

"I don't think the appreciation of a gift is in the wrapping," said the flight attendant, smiling, "I believe you have to open it!"

The flight attendant then turned and started to walk away.

"Wait! _Miss_…" Connie called her back, "Do you know who dropped this off?"

"He didn't leave a name," the flight attendant replied, "although he was a very distinguished-looking man…and may I add, _very_ handsome, to boot!"

Her comment was followed by a wink, leaving Connie with a telltale blush.

Left alone, Connie carefully unwrapped the present. The box underneath the wrappings was just an ordinary white box, nothing outstanding. She nervously flipped opened the top of the box and gasped at its contents.

Softly nestled in gold paper was Mike's worn baseball.

Peering deeper in the box, she discovered a small note. Pulling it out, it read:

_Connie,_

_To __remember __me __by__…_

_M_

Connie mouth curved into a smile.

_As __if __she __needed __a __reminder._

Connie heart soared as she very carefully removed the beloved baseball from its box. How many times had Mike held this, tossed this, cherished this very baseball? She held it protectively against her body and could swear she felt a gentle warmth exuding from it.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the headrest. Memories of his smile, his voice, his touch flooded her senses. Adding to that was his endless kisses that made her knees feel weak. Opening her eyes now, Connie reflected that this thoughtful gift meant more to her than all the jewelry at Tiffany's.

Still clasping her precious gift, she was more determined than ever to hurriedly straighten out her affairs in LA. Connie gave a heartfelt sigh at the one continual thought that whispered incessantly in her mind.

One day very soon she will find her way back home to New York City...and right into the welcoming arms of Michael Cutter.

.

.

_Ta-Dah! _

_The end_

__Isn't it wonderful that there are still so many Mike/Connie shippers out there? They can cancel the show, rid our favorite prosecutors of their jobs, separate them to different coasts, and we will still find a way to bring them back together through fanfiction! Yay!__

_When I started this story, I thought I would do a simple romance about wistful yearnings-I had no idea it would turn into a 22 chapter epic!_

_I cannot tell you how much enjoyment I had in writing this! I dedicate this to all the hopeless romantics out there who, like me, saw the amazing chemistry between Mike and Connie!_

_I know this story did not have complete closure, but that's because one day I plan to write a sequel to this! For me, this is not the ending of their story. It's just the beginning._

_Special thanks to all the reviewers who have also become my friends: fadedelegance, 25thday, Selene Garcia, SilverChef, Originalsnookerdarookie, Red Hearts, Happy Here, lone poppy, Everyday is Fun, RubirosaRocks and Flowerlover._

_Also, thank you anonymous reviewers who took the time to read and/or comment!_

_I will leave this fansite for awhile as I will be writing elsewhere, but I am only a PM away if you ever want me to read/review a story or just to talk!_

**_Please review for the last time!_**


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